


The Weight of Crests and Crowns

by Cythieus



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses, Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Battle, Battlefield, Childhood Friends, Epic Friendship, F/F, F/M, Fire Emblem: Three Houses Spoilers, Fodlan, Foot Fetish, Foot Jobs, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Gen, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Lesbian Character, Multi, NaNoWriMo, NaNoWriMo 2019, Sassy My Unit | Byleth, Secret Children, Secret Crush, Secret Identity, Secret Relationship, Straight Relationships, War
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-11
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-01-27 12:28:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 21
Words: 106,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21392155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cythieus/pseuds/Cythieus
Summary: *****SPOILERS FOR ALL FOUR ROUTES*****Five years have passed since Dimitri confessed his true feelings to Edelgard. With House Goneril in control of the Leicester Alliance and Claude slated to take his place as ruler of Almyra; it seems that a sustained peace might finally be within reach. As the Millennium Festival draws near the Officers Academy Class of 1180 reunites to find that Edelgard is the new mother to an Imperial Princess and that secretive plans for a wedding have been brewing.But when the child's parentage and the implications of her crest are revealed, the battle lines are drawn. Some fear her, others want her nurtured, and an ancient scorned enemy wants her for the completion of the their nefarious goals.
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Bernadetta von Varley/Hubert von Vestra, Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd/Edelgard von Hresvelg, Flayn/Dedue Molinaro, Hilda Valentine Goneril/Claude von Riegan, Ingrid Brandl Galatea/Sylvain Jose Gautier, Jeralt Reus Eisner/Original Character, Mercedes von Martritz/My Unit | Byleth
Comments: 38
Kudos: 255
Collections: Fire Emblem





	1. What-Ifs And Never-Meant-To-Bes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Small Note About Changes:** This is not the original version of the first chapter, there were some errors in the writing and just poor sentence structure that needed to be fixed. And there was an overwhelming pretentious tone to some of it. More importantly the revelations from the Ashen Wolves DLC and some of the interviews weren't revealed when I wrote this originally so I went back and made things fall more in line with canon, mostly name changes and small details that won't effect anything major down the line. Thanks.

### Day 25, Ethereal Moon 1180

Edelgard hated heights. It was the primary reason she had never followed in the footsteps of her childhood hero, Greta of Arianrhod, to become a Pegasus Knight. She kept close to the stone walls and held firmly to the handrail as she tried to focus on the questions nagging at her about this last minute request for a rendezvous. 

Every so often she would lean out to chance a glance between the winding stairs to see if she spotted her suitor making their way up, but her bravery was short lived. It was best if she avoided reminding herself of how high up she was. She didn’t even peek out the windows as she passed. 

The ancient wooden steps creaked under boot as she stepped onto the stone landing jutting out of the wall. Her knuckles caught a chill from the a breeze and she froze, her grip on the candle she carried tightened so much that the light flickered and danced. Edelgard continued on, the handrail for this final set of steps was gone. Edelgard flattened her palm against the wall, turning her back slightly toward it. 

The Tower of the Goddess was technically off limits to students of Garreg Mach, though Archbishop Rhea and the staff didn’t seem particularly keen on enforcing that rule. Seteth was the only person on campus who cared about students sneaking up there. After all, it wasn’t dangerous like the forest out past the chapel or filled with priceless relics or weapons like some of the storerooms. 

Edelgard paused after stepping into the top floor of the tower, she had come armed only with a small knife. Hubert had insisted she take something heftier or just take him. Over the years, with all the assassination attempts, she had developed a knack for sniffing out danger.

This struck her as an honest attempt by another student to make a connection and her curiosity about who it could be wouldn’t let her ignore it. She played the words of the letter over in her head one more time, trying to sift out a clue about the writer’s identity. 

Moonlight spilled through windows on adjacent walls of the tower painting the floor with overlapping patterns from the stained glass windows. The air was still with a kind of deafening loneliness. Though the combined light from her candle and the moon didn’t reach every corner of the room, she somehow knew this had been a waste of time. 

Before she could turn to leave a rock skipped across the floor and hit her boot. Her fingers grasped for the hilt of the dagger in a flash, drawing it up so that she was poised to strike. 

“You once told me that you had shrugged off superstition.” For some reason it took her a moment to recognize Dimitri’s voice. In fact, she spotted him before she really knew it was him that had spoke. He stepped out of the darkness in the direction that the rock had come from with the shadow spilling over his form as if he were breaking through the surface of a thick, black liquid. 

Edelgard tried to contain the shocked gasp, as she sheathed her dagger to clutch her chest. “Is this some kind of sick prank?” She asked

Dimitri chuckled, the right side of his face still draped in shadow. “What do you mean?” 

“This?” Edelgard produced the letter from inside of her jacket, crinkling the edge in her grasp. 

Dimitri’s expression softened. “Who would joke about such a thing?” He asked. 

Edelgard seemed to simmer, her hand shaking with the pater clutched tight. “You sought to mislead me then? This stuff about us meeting as children, about me teaching you to dance?” 

“Surely you jest.” 

Edelgard stared blankly. 

“When you were in the Kingdom.” Dimitri pressed his hands to his chest as if to acknowledge himself. “I was—I gave you that dagger at your waist…” 

Edelgard’s gaze softened. “I had almost forgotten. Why did you not say anything?” 

“I had thought knew and were just,” he trailed off. “Never mind,” Dimitri forced a small chuckle. “Maybe I was wrong to write that letter, but I meant every word of it. Perhaps I misjudged.” 

“A lot has happened in six years, there are parts of my life that seem almost as if I dreamed them and others I wish had been. I’m sorry,” Edelgard said shaking her head. 

Dimitri stepped toward her, stopping only a breath away. “I often thought of you after you left. The excitement of seeing you when I heard we would be attending the Officer’s Academy together was almost too much to bear.” 

“But I’m the heir to the Empire and you’re the next in line for the throne of Faerghus. Historically, we should be rivals. We’ve spent most of this school year as such.” Edelgard said, but her voice shook and she could just tell Dimitri caught it. 

“If we were but simple folk without the weight of crests and crowns what would you think if I came to you like this?” Dimitri asked.

“There’s far reaching ramifications for what you’re suggesting.” 

Dimitri cut her off. “If you listen close you can hear the music from the Grand Ball.”

Edelgard could hear it, the subtle sounds of a distant orchestra.

“Could I just have this dance?” Dimitri asked. 

“That depends, do you think you can do it without stepping all over my feet? You’re a lot bigger now.” Edelgard said, eyebrows raised. 

In response, Dimitri gently took the candle and letter away from Edelgard setting them aside with the weight of the former holding down the latter. He laced his fingers through hers with one hand and cupped her hip with the other. When they were younger, she had spent hours a day instructing him and the feel of his hand against her waist and her chest to his had become familiar. 

But something had changed. There was an intense heat between them. An electricity hummed in her stomach, not a full blast of lightning, but it was more like she had parried a bolt axe that had expended most of its charges.

The tension carried with it a hollow sort of pain, the kind that came from a lack of something. Her muscles were tense as they danced slow and out of step with the music. Dimitri seemed to regard her as some fragile object, his touch buffered by a tender carefulness. A world of difference separated them from the children they were back in Faerghus when they last danced. Torturous experiments and the loss of most of her family had changed Edelgard, surely things had changed Dimitri too. 

Edelgard had never given much thought to what she wanted in another person romantically, but there was surely something of it in Dimitri. And the blue and gold of his dress uniform suited him. The heirs of Blaiddyd always possessed this stark regal look in old illustrations and he seemed to be the living embodiment of it. 

The rhythmic flourishes of the song were so quiet from this far away that the grinding dust and grit between the soles of their shoes and the stone became part of the song. They continued to dance for what seemed like a hairs breadth in time and hours all at once. 

Dimitri pressed two fingers into her palm twice. It was an old tell for a coming change—she hadn’t taught him that. He extended his hand out, with hers still clasped tight leading her into a twirl and she followed, spinning away from him until their arms jerked them back together. 

Edelgard stayed close to him now, her head resting on his chest. A kind of guilt washed over her with a surprising speed, but she found back any harsh reaction. “What you wrote in your letter…was all of that real?” She asked. 

“Which part?”

“The only part that really would matter. The thing about waiting five years and the Millennium Festival.”

Dimitri nodded. “Five years of correspondence. Five years hidden away from prying eyes and wagging tongues—we meet under the guise of diplomatic liaisons. Nothing has to change between the Kingdom and the Empire. But allow me to court you. Find out who I am now.” 

“I’m not some shrinking flower of a maiden from one of your books,” she started.

Dimitri glanced to his side. “I’ve got the bruises to prove it.” 

“I mean: I’ve never seen the point in a slow courtship.” Edelgard added.

His face moved closer to hers, his lips nearly touching her ear. “Then call it whatever you will, I want to devote myself to you for five years—the Empress of my heart.” 

She broke his grasp and stepped back to laugh. “I’m sorry, did you rehearse this?” Edelgard asked, brushing her platinum blonde hair away from her eyes. 

Dimitri’s cheeks caught fire. “The Professor coached me, though I think she was asking her mother for help some of the time. I think this was a bit of a new experience for her. I should have probably have asked Sylvain or Claude—“

Edelgard pushed up onto the tips of her toes, tugged Dimitri down by his stiffened collar and pressed her lips to his. Her tongue bargained its way into his mouth soon after. His hands were frozen in the air off to the sides of his face where they had been when he was caught off guard by her kiss. 

He bought his hands around to her waist, resting them on her hips. When they parted she combed the hair away from her face and licked her lips.

“Is that a yes?” Dimitri said, clearly fighting to regain his composure. 

She kissed him again. “It’s a we’ll see.” 

* * *

* * *

The swelling music, the dancing, and all of the students clamoring around her—it was a burden of attention that she had tried to avoid for most of her life at the Monastery. She had grown comfortable of living in her parents’ shadow. Being the daughter of the Captain of the Knights of Seiros and one of the most prominent nuns within the Church and the granddaughter of the Archbishop will do that. 

Byleth once thought it lucky that anyone paid her attention. All of that changed nine months ago when the instructor who was to be the head of the Black Eagle House was killed by bandits. Gran, who now insisted that she be referred to as the Archbishop Rhea, made the impromptu decision to bestow the professorship to her. 

Byleth was happy to show her devotion to the Goddess by swinging a sword. It was second nature by now. She had even developed the kind of reputation that came with a nickname. The Ashen Demon they called her—Mother hated it. 

But Byleth the Ashen Demon could galavant around town when she pleased. She could have her pick of farmer’s daughters or flirt with the sweet tan skinned girl in the market. She could bet on herself in horse races and use the winnings to fill up every cup in the tavern. 

Professor Byleth couldn’t do those things. Her time was too occupied to accompany the knights on their missions. And there was surely no more waking up hung over in the green house wrapped around some dark haired, freckled farm girl. She couldn’t exactly refuse her Gran or the Archbishop, which ever. 

At the start of all of it she didn’t know how she would spend most of her next year watching over a gaggle of spoiled Adrestian nobles. Now that their graduation was near she knew she’d miss them. 

Byleth strolled under the darkened breezeways that connected the courtyard to the mess hall. From this angle the moon was partially obscured by the silhouette of the Goddess Tower. When she left the dance she hadn’t seen Dimitri or Edelgard anywhere, she wondered if he had taken her advice to heart. Both he and Edelgard needed to lighten up for sure. 

“Even when you were little you would come to this very spot to think,” came a sing-songs voice that Byleth would recognize anywhere. 

She whirled around to look into her mother’s large green eyes. Her mother and grandmother looked more like they could have been sisters. They had the same long green hair and the same effortless beauty, but any confusion about who it was could be shattered by the way they carried themselves. Her mother lacked the overwhelming aura of confidence that Rhea exuded. 

“How do you know I’m thinking?” Byleth asked. They were near the small courtyard area where a cluster of tables and chairs would, during the day, have usually been filled with chattering students. Most everyone was at the ball now. Byleth slipped into a chair and waited for her mother to do the same. 

“I can always tell when you’re troubled, little one,” her mother said with a smile in her voice as she reached up ran her fingers through Byleth’s hair. 

“Mom!” 

“Sorry. Sorry, that I embarrass Garreg Mach’s star Professor,” she said. 

Byleth shrugged her Mom’s hand off. “That’s not any better” Byleth said. 

“It’s the truth, everyone back there wanted to dance with you. One young lady in particular was fawning over you,” her mother said with a tilt of her head that insinuated that Byleth knew it exactly who she was speaking of. 

Byleth’s face reddened. “You only like her because she’s basically a younger you…” 

“What’s wrong with that?” Her mother said reaching out to straighten the shawl on Byleth’s shoulders. 

“It’s just—it’s nothing. Mercedes is fantastic. I just think she has, you know, church priorities.” Byleth said. 

Her mother leaned out to look her in the eye, face practically glowing. She got this glow about her when thinking about one person in particular. “You don’t think Captain Jeralt, the Blade Breaker, Captain of the bravest knights in the land and hero of story and song came with some priorities?” 

As she announced the various titles that Father had been gifted over the years she straightened her back and puffed out her chest as if to imitate the stature of some great hero. Byleth couldn’t help but giggle.

“I’m going to tell him you did that,” she said. 

“Your father knows how everyone talks about him, but where is he right now? He’s on a mission. He was always running here and there when you were little and even before that. I understood. He was always there when we needed him and we figured things out. That’s what you and Mercedes have to do.” 

“She’s a student. It’s wrong,” said Byleth. 

“She graduates in a few weeks. I’ve watched that girl pine after you all year round. She switched to your class just to be nearer to you. And that little stunt where she came to class and conveniently forget her uniform top, I don’t believe for a second that was a mistake. If you like her too what’s the matter? The Goddess wants her children to be happy. You deserve it and from what I hear about her family, she’s earned all of the affection that she can get,” her mother said. 

Byleth flopped over onto her mother’s lap and said through a yawn. “You think just because you’re the Archbishop’s daughter you can speak for the Goddess now?”

Her mother got very still. “There have been times in my life when I felt as though—no, I knew that the Goddess Sothis was speaking through me.” 

Byleth laughed. “I love you, Mom.” 

“I love you too.” 

The stillness of the night and the strong drink she’d had caused her to drift to sleep in her mother’s lap. A future with Mercedes or anyone else seemed like an abstract, nebulous thing that might not come to pass. So much could change between now and whenever and who knew what might become of her and the people in her life. 

Even then, she knew her future would involve Garreg Mach. No matter where she went this would always be home. 


	2. Remembrance of a Reaper

Dimitri’s honor-guard rode in a spearhead formation with him in the lead while other knights flanked out to his sides. His blonde hair and the furs draped across his shoulders were covered in a light dusting of snow. There was barely enough of his old gloves to ward off the cold, but it wasn’t more than he could manage. Winters in Faerghus often meant weeks without the sun and winds that would freeze a man’s spit before it had left his mouth. This was nothing.

He urged his horse forward, in an attempt to make for the jagged pass leading into the Oghma Mountains. It would be a day and a half’s ride to Garreg Mach proper, a day if they rode hard and took light rests. Spending the night in the mountain pass would offer some much needed protection from the wind and afford them the chance at the kind of sleep they would need to make the trek. 

The snow had been light since they passed south through Magdred. There was even some much needed sun in the valleys. One might even be excused for not knowing what season it was. 

“Slow down, Your Majesty,” Ingrid said as she steered her Pegasus down closer to the ground to make her words better heard. “I don’t know what’s got you in this hurry.” 

“I’d like to spend as little time in this wind as possible, if you don’t mind,” Dimitri said. 

Felix scoffed from atop his coal black horse and the horse, seemingly imitating its master demeanor made a loud fluttering sound as it exhaled. “What kind of boar shies away from the cold?” Felix asked. 

Dimitri ignored the question, as he did with most of Felix’s jabs, but Annette pulled Felix’s ear roughly as punishment. She was sitting at his back and had been resting her head between his shoulder blades. He probably though her sleep until she pinched him. 

“That’s disrespectful and uncalled for!” Annette said. 

“Ow, use your words, woman,” Felix chided her. 

Their group was spread out with a compliment of minor lords and knights of the crown moving along in their numbers as protection. Sylvain had hung back just in case there was to be trouble near the middle of their lines. Dedue was with Flayn, his wife, as neither of them could be on horseback on account of their small child and the fact that most horses in the Kingdom didn’t have it in them to carry Dedue for any amount of time. 

Of the former students of the Officers Academy in their group only Dedue and Flayn had last visited the place after since leaving. They had gone when their daughter was a year old, when they could travel safely with her. Seteth had insisted on seeing his niece in person for quite some time. 

Ingrid rose up to a height that would allow her to see clear to the edge of the mountain line. There were forests to either side of them, many of the trees had been cleared back leaving a wide stretch of land, but the woods were so deep once they started that it was impossible to see into them. 

“Do you think we’ll be first of the old class in the festivities?” Asked Dimitri.

“Doubtful. Mercie is still living at the Monastery and Claude had almost the same distance to travel and is making it by sky,” said Annette. 

Dimitri smirked back at her and Felix. “I wouldn’t count us out just yet.” 

“You’re awfully competitive suddenly. What’s gotten into you?” Felix asked. 

“I just thought this was the kind of thing we used to be proud of. The Blue Lions always strove to snatch victory from the jaws of defeat!” 

“Still, competitive isn’t something I would call you at all,” Ingrid said.

Dimitri thought it better that he cut the small talk. If they sensed the excitement in his voice about arriving back at the monastery was it possible that they might sense it if he mentioned the real reason that he was in a hurry? He had been concealing the true nature of his relationship with Edelgard for five years now.

He still brimmed with excitement every time that he was on the cusp of seeing her. Was it too obvious. Had someone, unbeknownst to him sussed out what the overwhelming joy that he displayed for the Empress of the Adrestian Empire was really about? 

Could they know that Greta Patricia von Hresvelg was also his daughter? 

Perhaps it was too little to expect from them to think that way of him. The notion of it was uncouth and out of line even to him, but when he saw Edelgard, when he felt her skin on his and kissed her lips, when he was alone with her in bed in those precious hours they could steal away from their lives as rulers he knew that fate and the very Goddess had drawn them together. 

A bright flash spilled out of the forest to their right and then another to the left. Dimitri drew up on the reigns of his horse to bring himself back into line. “Whoa, whoa,” he said, rubbing the side of the creatures neck. 

“They’re on both sides!” Ingrid yelled just in time for a large flaming mass to come rocketing over the treetops and hurtling right toward them. “Break! Break!” Ingrid screamed before rushing upward into the sky with her shield raised to protect her shoulders, neck, and head. 

The rest of her Pegasus Knights battalion took her command to scatter just before four rocks that crackled with flame rained down from the sky to shatter in the road leaving the main path partially blocked. 

Maddened screams were coming from the forest on both sides, echoing down the slope and into their group trapped on three sides by an unknown force. Dimitri snapped out of thoughts of Edelgard and his child. Their enemy was too well equipped to be ordinary bandits and this was far too close to the Church’s territory for it to be safe for them. 

He didn’t have long to ponder on it before they emerged from the trees charging toward the relatively small regiment of Kingdom soldiers. The standards they carried bore distinct banners depicting a silver Crest of Seiros laid over a blood red field: The Western Church. 

“Protect your King!” A voice boomed from somewhere in the back of the lines. 

“To arms!” 

People rushed back and forth, trying to sure up the defenses around the road where they could. Archers lined up along the road to nock their arrows, taking aim at the rush of soldiers. But the Western church fired first and though their shooting was done on the move, it was effective at striking true. 

Several knights around Dimitri fell from their horses, archers along their front lines plummeted to the ground. It was only because of his shield that Dimitri wasn’t hit. Her heard the shouts of men, felt the beat of hooves and the crunch of armor against the hard dirt. 

Felix toppled down off of his horse and the creature sunk to the ground to one side. Annette was forced to dive to the ground to avoid because crushed and she made her way to her husband’s side. 

The arrow was jutting out of his lower abdomen and another in his shoulder, he wouldn’t die immediately but they had to get him off this road and out of the line of fire. Ingrid and her sky knights took this opportunity to crash down upon the army from above, lashing out at them with pole axes and spears. She whirled around in a spiral like a marble riding along the inside of an overturned barrel, her bodied poised to strike the moment any enemy came into reach. 

Dimitri would cover the side of the road that she hadn’t gone to, he rode down into the ditch, hefting the ancient spear, Areadbhar, up into his hands. In the past the Western Church had exchanged stern words with the Central Church, but in the last five years they had lashed out militarily starting with the attack on a sacred site at the Rhodos Coast and even going as far as to attack the Archbishop herself. 

Even then, targeting the Kingdom was an entirely different thing considering that they were the segment of the church mostly tied to the West. 

“Let’s make them work for it,” Dimitri said beckoning some of his knights to follow. “I won’t join the ranks of the dead today!”

* * *

* * *

Annette held close to Felix, her fingers pressed in around the arrow to keep as much pressure on the wound as she could. Their horse was pressed up against them and had already expired from its wounds. The massive body laying there was doing its part by keeping them from being trampled to death. 

Felix groaned, trying to move to sit up. The movement was enough to make the arrow move inside of his skin, he almost let out a cry, but managed to subdue it.

“You have to stay still,” Annette said, pressing her hand to his chest to steady him. 

“If I stay still, you’ll stay here. I have to move…for both our sakes,” Felix said. 

As the Western Church soldiers raced across the field, closing in on either side of them, the Knights of Fhirdiad encircled Dimitri’s immediate area which included Annette and Felix. 

Hooves and boots thundered around them and it was hard to see where anyone was. The knights were so close and tightly packed that it was impossible to make out the field anymore. Then the clang of metal on metal, there were screams and grunts. Another round of huge rocks sailed overhead, crashing into the ground so close to their position that the whole world seemed to shake. 

Annette touched Felix’s face, her fingers trailing down the side of his cheek until they were under his chin. She lifted his face, just slightly enough to kiss him. A smile worked its way across her pink lips. 

“Keep pressure on this,” she said, acknowledging the wound. 

“Don’t go,” Felix said as he pulled back from her.

“I can help hold them off. Maybe we can think of something, maybe…” Annette went to stand up, but he had hold of her arm. She yanked away from Felix causing him to drop onto his back 

Just then one of the white clad Western Church Myrmidon’s broke through the line, battering one of the Kingdom’s knights down in a flurry of maddened strikes. Through the space made where he tore through the knights lines Annette could see some the West Church heretics carrying torches. They were lighting living people on fire. 

The Myrmidon glanced up at Annette, the knights that still held the line were too preoccupied with the targets in front of them. They had to know one of their own went down, but everything was happening too fast. But his face, she noticed it only in the blip of time that she had to process everything, there was something wrong with the Myrmidon’s face.

On instinct she lifted her hands up, her hands making the motions without her having to think back or remember them. Even without her wand it wouldn’t be much of a feat for her to cast the first spell she had learned—wind. A high speed disk of air cut into the enemy soldier and sent him flying onto his back. 

But their lines weren’t holding. She could hear Dimitri barking orders. 

Annette scrambled over the ground, keeping her head low until she got back to Felix. He reached one blood soaked hand up to grab hers. “It’s okay,” Felix said. 

“No.”

“Go,” Felix said. “Just go, idiot!” 

Annette spun around, her fingers spread wide as she loosed a series of shining bolts of light from hands, a Sagittae spell. They tore through some approaching soldiers, there were more coming. Faster than she could cast. 

She tired to cover Felix as he begged her to leave. They were too far from the tightening formation the Knights kept and if she had gone to drag him the Wester Church would be upon her in an instant. 

A heavy shield pounded into the ground in front of her and Felix, blocking an oncoming Western Church axe user. Annette glanced up to see the bronze colored plate armor worn by Dedue, he glanced back over his shoulder at her as she raked his heavy axe down into a man and punched another. 

“You’re safe now, Lady Annette.” 

Flayn had slipped in behind Annette, which was even more surprising when you considered that she was carrying a three year old around. She got down over Felix, and closed her eyes briefly.

“It’ll all be fine,” Flayn assured Annette as she pressed her hands against the sides of Felix’s neck. 

Annette could feel the air tingle with magic as Flayn’s crest and her magic worked in tandem to heal her husband and push the arrows out of his body as useless sticks. 

Felix sucked in a sharp gasp, clutching at his chest as if he had been deprived vital air for too long. He was on his feet in a flash, drawing his sword. “Thank you, Flayn,” he said. 

He caught a Western Church soldier in the thigh with a deft strike and then stabbed the man through the chest. “I’ve got to make myself useful.”

“We all fall back,” Dedue said. “You cover my sides.” 

“I don’t take orders from the Boar’s piglet,” Felix said despite the fact that he fell into position next to Dedue as Annette watched the other side and Flayn retreated for safety with the child. 

* * *

* * *

Dimitri was unmounted, spear clutched between his hands with his back pressed against that of the men at his sides. He had learned to ride from and early age and excelled at it. He understood, through various different teachers’s lessons that horseback offered vast advantages over combat on foot. Still, this was the way he saw himself. Horses hadn’t always been so common in the Kingdom and when he thought of himself, the basest thing parts of what he was it was a man of the Northern Territory, draped in furs with a spear in hand. 

They were surrounded, cut off from another group of knights, but Dimitri and the few men that he had left were some of his best. When the enemy made a move they poked out from the safety of formation. When arrows were fired they dropped behind the large silver shields that they carried, Dimitri had the men on either side to shield for him.

_Strike._ Dimitri and his group plunged their spears forward into an approaching group.

The only problem was endurance. One man would eventually slip or get tired and then that part of the formation would fall and they’d have to close the gap. It had not happened yet, but it was the end result of a stalemate like this against greater numbers. 

_Shields raised. Thud_ Arrows pounded against the shields as they went up to block the onslaught. 

A rebel force this large was almost unheard of. The contingent of troops that Dimitri had brought with him for the trip had been small. Larger forces tended to slow things and need more resources and he hadn’t seen the point of traveling with a full compliment. No one had been attacked on this scale for years. 

“Above us! Above us!” Shouted one of the men. 

Dimitri glanced upward to see mounted fliers. Pegasus and Falcon Knights along with Wyvern Riders. 

“Hold!” Dimitri said. He swore he could see the smile on the lead riders face and when the rider got closer and Dimitri saw who it was, saw the unmistakeable shape of the bow Failnaught he couldn’t help but smile that his suspicions had been confirmed. 

Claude von Riegan loosed a volley of arrows into various soldiers that were charging toward Dimitri. He swooped down overhead with the other riders and in that group were faces that Dimitri recognized, though he hadn’t seen some of them in years. The professor was close behind Claude, mounted on what had to be a borrowed Pegasus. He even spotted Hubert von Vestra riding in back of Bernadetta. 

They hovered overhead with a small group while others circled around in the air to pick off stragglers and search for the Kingdom’s separated survivors. 

Dimitri heard Hubert laugh manically as he sent purple, gel like orbs of magic crashing into groups of Western Church soldiers.

“Umm, honey,” Bernadette started. “Your scary laughing is kind of distracting,” she said before loosing another arrow. 

The added air support was enough for Ingrid’s forces to regroup and fall into formation with the reinforcement. It still wasn’t enough to drive the Western Church to retreat fully, but there wasn’t much left of them. Their numbers were greater, but their skill was much less and they had exhausted their advantage in the initial push to break the lines. 

Claude did a roll in the air, firing arrows through the whole maneuver and hitting his one target with each shot. He unseated a large armored man who was galloping toward Dimitri and the others. As he came to a stop near them, Dimitri could feel the beat of his Wyvern’s wings. 

“I’m glad you didn’t run off this time, Claude,” Dimitri said. 

“Nah,” Claude said. He tossed an arrow up in front of himself for it to spin once before he caught it; he did this flawlessly as if he had practiced it. “I knew if I let you die all those poor maidens in the Kingdom would be sad and I hate to see a lady cry.”

Dimitri would have actually laughed at this, had they not been standing surrounded by the bodies of his countrymen. He wasn’t sure that Claude wanted him to laugh or that it was meant exactly as a joke. There was something in the way the Almyran archer held his gaze and the look in his eyes that betrayed his wide smile.

It had been years since Dimitri had stood within miles of Claude, possibly even in the same country as him but it seemed his understanding of him had changed very little. 

* * *

* * *

It had taken the better part of the afternoon for them to sure up the rest of their forces make arrangements for the dead. Mercedes, who had come in with the rescue operation had been the one to bless the dead, she said few words over them and worked quickly with a kind of respect that very few twice her age who had been with the church for a time equal to her life span could even muster.

Though it pained Dimitri to think it, no one close to him had passed. Some of the men he had stood shoulder to shoulder with were life long knights, pledged to him by his banner men and his banner men’s banner men, but they were not his friends. 

When he watched Annette and Felix stride up between Dedue and Flayn and when he saw Sylvain arguing with Ingrid a part of him couldn’t help but sigh in relief. _I don’t need anymore dead loved ones haunting me_.

They made camp at the mouth of the mountain pass. There was a little area there where a merchant selling wares from the distance East had set up a small shop. It seemed like an easily fortified place for them to camp. When drenched the landscape in shadow and the fires they lit painted the sides of the mountains dull orange, Dimitri sulked off into the darkness to drink in a small hole at the base of the rocks. 

He hardly noticed that someone had stolen up on him until he heard Hubert speak. 

“What are your plans?” Asked the mage, in the darkness it was hard to see his face or even know that his lips were moving. Hubert had cut an imposing figure once upon a time and he did in a way, still, but these last few years working more closely with him had shed some light on his character.

“Normally one would try to make for Ashner’s Keep. It’s small and fortified. There’s enough there to keep bandits at bay and hide cooking fires from the outside world, but I’d like to press hard tomorrow and make for the monastery,” Dimitri said. 

Hubert nodded, bringing his hands together in front of him. “I thought you might say such.” 

“How did you know where we were and that there would be an attack?” Dimitri asked. 

“We didn’t. Not exactly. There was some discussion about where the visitors to the monastery would come from and we had intel of Western Church spies in the woods. As luck would have it we spotted the attack, not that they were being very muted in their approach.” 

Dimitri took a big drink. “I didn’t think you believed in luck.” 

“I don’t believe in relying on it, but luck has been the deciding factor in many conflicts. One cannot afford to overlook it,” said Hubert. 

“True. True.” Dimitri nodded. 

Hubert was quiet for a moment, glancing to his sides and then back to where Dimitri sat. He stepped forward and his face came into a sliver of flickering fire light. “I feel that there is something more pressing that you’re waiting to ask me. Don’t feign interest in my pursuits for the sake of politeness, go on, ask.”

“How is she?” Dimitri said. “How are they?” 

“Lady Edelgard is exactly as you would expect her to be and little Greta is well,” Hubert said.

Dimitri got quiet, searching his perception for signs of anyone else in the area that might hear even though he knew Hubert would have immediately warned him. “I have longed to see them both. I cannot…I do not know how to even express how intense the desire is within me to hold Greta in my arms.” 

Hubert folded his arms behind his back, grabbing his wrist with the other hand. “Young Lady Greta has also said her first word. It was: ‘kitty’.” 

Footsteps nearby. Both Dimitri and Hubert went still, trying to listen for the direction of their approach. 

“What’s going on over here?” Claude shuffled through the darkness toward the pair of them with his fingers laced behind his head. As he got close enough to see who he was addressing he whistled. “This is quite the pair out here. Hubert, when you went missing I figured you’d gone off to find some confined, coffin like space to sleep in or is it that you hang upside down?” 

“I don’t know to what you’re referring…” Hubert said. 

“Was there some reason that you struck out this far from camp to find?” Asked Dimitri. 

“There was a missing monarch and a very anxious girl with purple hair,” Claude said glancing to Hubert. “I think your wife is looking for you…and just so you know that vampire bit got a lot of laughs back there…” 

Hubert sighed. “Perhaps it is time that I head back. We can discuss the finer details of things once we’re at the monastery or perhaps you can see them for yourself,” Hubert shot a curt nod at Dimitri, the kind of nod that clearly said more than he could out loud presently, and then headed back toward the fires. 

* * *

* * *

With the sun having retreated behind the horizon the cold had it’s way with the world and the air along the mountain pass began to hint at the cold that they would face tomorrow at the hight elevations. Byleth knew it was a terrible idea to wander off alone into the night, but she had to confirm the thing for herself. She walked until the scant light available to her was more than enough. 

The darkened spaces that marked the edges of the gravel on the path and the jagged edge of each peak seemed to hold a kind of strange relevance under the cover of night. 

Honestly she hadn’t gone far and she had moved at such a sluggish pace that she felt that she could still hear the voices of her party further back. Something would flash on occasion and she just knew that was the flicker of the fires from camp. 

Or maybe she had imagined it.

The path took a sharper turn, one that didn’t have the natural slant or curve that most on the pass did and as it passed through the shadow of a rock face the way ahead vanished only to appear again yards away. 

An electricity filled the air. It tingled and popped at Byleth’s skin until she knew that it was more than just some trick of superstition. Her hand went to the relic weapon at her waist, the Sword of the Prophet. Drawing the jagged weapon from its scabbard she paused, peering into void in front of her. 

“I knew you were were here, just like I felt you on the battlefield earlier,” Byleth said. “Show yourself, old friend.” 

For a moment there was nothing and then something moved within the darkness, turning until two ember like eyes glowed high above the ground. A horse and rider emerged from the blackened air, the horse blowing out steam as it stalked forward. It had been some time since Byleth had last seen the Death Knight, but she remembered the feeling that she had been overtaken with before each time that they crossed weapons. 

“Ashen Demon,” though she couldn’t see his face, Byleth felt that the tone of the Death Knight’s voice almost sounded like a smile. “You have a peculiar idea of friendship,” he added.

Byleth shrugged. “I consider us friends,” she said. “It’s a shame too since after I kill you who am I going to fight like this?” 

She wasted no time, opening with a swipe of her off-hand to throw a fireball spell. It missed, as she knew it would, the Death Knight’s horse leapt aside deftly. But the fireball also lit up part of the path behind him showing her that there was no trick. 

Byleth had never been the kind to depend on offensive magic, she launched herself forward with the sword at the ready. Her legs pounded behind her, slipping on the loose gravel, but she had anticipated this in herself and her opponent. The Death Knight was off of his footing, sliding from his dodge. 

She stopped short of him, letting him go to move out of her path. But it took a second for horse’s feet to catch. Byleth stooped down low, using the sword stabilize herself by jabbing it into the ground when she needed to change directions. 

The Death Knight pulled back, causing his horse to rear up just as Byleth struck. She jammed her sword into the ground just to make a change in direction again and pushed in for the attack only to have him parry. 

They battled back and forth, their weapons ringing as they collided together, flashes of sparks between them ignited the air every so often. The Death Knight rounded on her, taking a heavy swing at her head that caused her to drop into a duck and roll out of the way before the horse stomped down on her. 

The air whooshed as the Death Knight began to twirl his scythe and before long it was a howl. He swung at her, but stumbled back and deflected the blow so that the blade of the weapon was buried in the rock face above her head. Byleth bounded back on to her feet, sword poised out in front of her and crackling with energy. 

“If Mercedes finds out that I ripped another piece of clothing,” Byleth muttered. “You won’t have to kill me.” 

“Mer..ce…des…” the Death Knight said in a breathy tone.

Byleth got to her feet. “You okay? You need a moment?” Byleth asked. “We can’t continue to play if you’re going to do…whatever that was at the mention of other women…” 

A kind of guttural growl erupted from the Death Knight as he moved on her again, but this time with a magic attack. She was too close to dodge this and her balance was off. It wouldn’t be the end of her, but it might be significant blow even with the aid of a relic to block part of it. Byleth brought her sword down as fast as she could, but before the wave of white energy could overtake her someone stepped in at her side catch the spell with their hands. 

She smelled the subtle hint of Mercedes’s hair and the soap she had used to wash it all of these years before she knew that her wife was there. Then as if to confirm the truth that Byleth knew, she grunted at the weight of the spell as it dissipated against her counter work.

“You!” The Death Knight snarled. 

“What are you doing out here alone?” Asked Mercedes looking to her side. Her hands were still up, anticipating another attack and twitching from taking that first one. There were better mages that had come out of Garreg Mach, but there was no one else that Byleth had seen in all of her years that could eat some of the worst spells out there without so much as a scratch. 

“Needed to clear my head,” Byleth said. 

The Death Knight made to ride back up the path into the darkness, but stopped and aimed the scythe out at them. “The next time—no—the moment is not right yet.” He rode off, driving his horse as hard as he could. 

“You said that last time!” Byleth yelled after him. 

“How does he keep finding you?” Mercedes asked.

Byleth shrugged, staring blankly at her wife for a moment. “I think—I think I can feel him. I knew he was at that battle earlier and then just now.” 

“It just doesn’t make sense. He kidnaps Flayn, attacks on Remire Village, and then he just appears in random places from time to time. Almost like he was out to fulfill some grand goal and then just…” Mercedes trailed off. “There’s more to him than just being a monster. It’s like he’s playing a part. A person like that can’t know any other life. They can’t…” 

Byleth caressed the underside of her wife’s chin and ran her thumb over Mercede’s lips. They stared at each other for several seconds before Byleth leaned in and kissed her. Mercedes eyes closed on instinct and she had leaned in to receive the kiss.

“What was that for?” Asked Mercedes as their lips parted. 

“Can’t I kiss you?” 

Mercedes smiled, her cheeks reddening enough that it was apparent even in the low light present in the pass. “I’d venture to say you can do a fair bit more than that,” she said pressing herself against Byleth so that her cheek touched the side of Byleth’s temple. 

“Let’s save it for when we’re safely back home,” Byleth said wrapping an arm around her waist to lead her back up the path. 

* * *

* * *

She had never been the kind of person who could sneak around with any kind of proficiency. In the years at the Monastery it was just luck that her father had been just the perfect combination of busy and trusting that allowed her a degree of freedom that, looking back on, she was kind of surprised of especially after the kidnapping. Those threats seemed to die off or at least fade from plain view. 

Back at the school when she needed to be alone she would sneak out and take a stroll around the campus. The whole place was relatively safe, even with all that eventually did happen there. She never felt so unsafe as to be unable to take a walk. 

When she married and left the protection of Garreg Mach her need for alone time turned into a need for time with her husband. She longed for any moments that they could steal away from Dedue’s duties as a knight and hers as one of the most celebrated healers in the kingdom. That time was their own, but it passed relatively quick as most time did after centuries of life. When she gave birth to their daughter, Eithle, a lot of their time became dedicated to raising her and caring for her. 

It was rare that she struck out on her own. Maybe being this close to the monastery had ignited something within her, but she had to make the effort to sneak out even if she just went as far as the edge of the camp to gaze off over the tops of the mountains into the night sky. 

Being outside of the city again had reminded her off how many stars there were in the sky. It wasn’t a fact she forgot, but one that she never had to consider anymore. The light at the Monastery and then when she moved to Fhirdiad had caused the sheer number of twinkling orbs in the sky to become an afterthought. 

When she was outside of her tent for a few minutes and spotted no one but the men on watch she dared herself to move a little further from the center of camp. Dedue was still with Eithle and there were hundreds of people around in total. They just happened to mostly be asleep. She pressed her body against the stone wall that blocked one side of the path they were camping in, the dying embers of the cook fires the only source of light this far from the torches that the guards carried. 

The darkness didn’t matter much to Flayn or others of her kind. They could see well enough in low light. Flayn was some years into her life when she realized humans couldn’t see in the dark. 

Footsteps very nearby, no. It was the sound of something scrapping, someone moving to stand from the ground. Flayn hadn’t seen him there, but Claude was a few feet down the rock face sitting on the ground. By the time she had spotted him he was halfway to a standing position. 

“Do you always slip out like this late at night?” He asked. 

“I had a habit of going for late night strolls, but the mood takes me less frequently now,” Flayn said.

“That is uncanny,” Claude said as he shambled toward her. 

“What ever do you mean?” 

“Your voice coming out of…when I spotted you during the fight I had no idea who you were. It wasn’t until someone called you by name that I realized,” Claude said. 

“It’s been five years, we all changed,” she said.

Claude chuckled. “If you say so. It’s kind of a weird thing to admit, but you look a fair bit like a smaller Rhea now…” 

“If there’s any relation to the Archbishop and I it must be generations back. It’s nothing that I know of,” she said, clearly stopping to consider all of her words. 

“That’s the same,” Claude started. “You’re a shit liar.” 

Flayn let out a small, disgruntled noise. There were things Father never discussed and that she didn’t know how to ask Rhea—things about how her body worked and when she would look as old as she felt. It had apparently been tied to having Eithle, at least in her case. 

“Not sure how you can tell how anything looks without a torch. Why are you sulking about in the dark?” Asked Flayn. 

Claude pointed to his eyes. “Old hunter’s trick. If you avoid light long enough then your eyes become attuned to the dark. You can’t see as well as you would in daylight, but you can more than make do.” 

“Until you come in contact with something bright and you’re blinded,” Flayn said. 

Claude sighed. “I guess that’s the risk you run dealing with darkness,” he said. “So, uh, you and Dedue—how did that happen?” 

“During his time at the school he used to help me with my cooking and he would frequently be working in the greenhouse. We became acquainted and after graduation he and I kept in touch. My brother and I traveled to the capital almost a year later and I found that I felt strongly and apparently he did too.” 

The guards were so far away from them camp that the only sound left between them was their breathing. Flayn gave Claude the broad strokes of what went on between her and Dedue. She had never revealed the awkward moments immediately after their first kiss in the greenhouse at the school to anyone. She never would speak about the first time that she made love to Dedue in the library at the castle in Fhirdiad.

“It’s strange,” Claude said, “Being this close to that place—I only lived there about a year and somehow it feels…more significant.” 

“Garreg Mach was home for years,” Flayn wondered if she had let something slip with the way that she said it had been so many years. Claude had been one of the students more suspicious about her past. Though he never directly asked, there was an insinuation that he knew more than others. 

“You grew up at the Monastery or…” Claude started. 

“No, I only came to be there a short time before you and the others. Before that I had been living in a village where my brother and I were born,” Flayn said. 

“Living in a village? Without Seteth?” 

Flayn threaded her fingers through one another, clasping her hands against her stomach and taking a deep breath. Zanado had shielded her from the dangers of the real world for so long. No one ever set foot in that region of the Oghma Mountains and the Church made sure to declare it off limits unless there was official business to be had. “It was peaceful,” she said.

Total Isolation.

“But yes it also grew lonely,” Flayn added. 

Claude nodded. “You were the only one in this village? It sounds like you were hiding from someone or something…”

“My father made a lot of enemies,” Flayn said before she had remembered herself. That was the risk in speaking to Claude, there was a kind of security in him that made you want to place your trust in him. “My brother and I are paying for the transgressions of our family.” 

“Ugh, I can assure you that I know a thing or two about what it’s like to be blamed for something your family’s past. In my case it’s the two sides of my family,” Claude said. “It’s tiring.” 

“Is that why you came back to Fódlan—to escape that?” 

“All three houses promised to come back for the Millennium Celebration, plus I’ve got a special lady I’m looking forward to seeing.” Claude folded his arms behind his head and leaned back to rest against the wall. 

The same way that she didn’t want Claude pushing the issues of her past and questioning her lineage too much, she didn’t expect to be able to ask all of his secrets. She had some guesses as to who the woman was, but with the level of secrecy that Claude maintained about a lot of his activities she was prepared for there to be some surprise if it was revealed. 

Flayn moved over nearer to Claude to sit down against the wall with him, resting her hands in her own lap as she dropped into position. Maybe this was enough, just having a companion to sit and ponder with in silence. She had left the tent to go out alone, but the truth was at the monastery, in Fhirdiad…she had always been with others in the sense that the buildings around her were full of people. It still wouldn’t be safe for her to be truly alone and maybe she didn’t want to be alone in the sense that she was isolated.

It was like things had become so loud since she rejoined society. She just needed quiet, she decided. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fixed an issue where Flayn called Seteth her father and some issues with the writing.


	3. The Sound of Bells

Greta crawled quite quickly, even without the soft carpet as padding under the small knees. She had nearly rounded the corner out of the room before Edelgard noticed her. The child had a head start and would have been out of the room before Edelgard could get to her feet and move for the door. 

Instead a pair of muscular, tanned hands dropped into view as Jeralt scooped the little Grand Princess nestled her against his chest carefully. Though the child would have none of it and leaned away from him to get a better look at his full beard. She seemed to study his face in an effort to determine if it was that of anyone she knew in the few seconds before Edelgard jogged up with her hands out. 

“Oh I apologize, Captain, she can be a bit of a handful and without Hubert or Bernadetta she has a tendency to strike off looking for something to get into,” Edelgard said. 

Jeralt chuckled, holding his smile in a way that should have shown creases and lines in his face that had come with time. It was odd to think this man was the father of Professor Byleth. He looked to be only a few years older than them, though the weight of his gaze betrayed his true age. 

“S’not a problem,” Jeralt said as he patted Greta’s back, causing her to coo. “It’s been some time since I held a young rapscallion like this.” He held her away from her person and stared into the small child’s face, Edelgard knew what would be staring back at him: the same pale blue eyes and nearly white, blonde hair with skin the color of the white sand beaches at Rhodos.

“Reminds me of Byleth. She’s strong like her mother,” he glanced over at Edelgard and gently placed the wiggling baby into her grasp. “Yeah, she’s gonna be a little ass-kicker.” 

Edelgard pulled the baby close, the child’s head rested in the space under her chin and against her neck. “That’s high praise coming from Captain Jeralt Reus Eisner,” Edelgard said with a laugh. 

“Look, Empress,” Jeralt said, bowing suddenly as if he remembered his place. “I know it’s not my place to ask, but you were one of my daughter’s favorite students and in my eyes that…well that makes you family. You’ve got your hands full here with the little Princess there and running the Empire. While you’re here if you need anything…” 

“That’s…probably the kindest thing I’ve seen happen in a while. I would hate to burden you and your wife; Lady Eisner I’m sure has a lot going on. Plus she has to keep you and the Professor in check,” Edelgard smirked before she kissed Greta on the head. 

In all of her time at the Officers Academy she had never found a good way to properly address Byleth’s mother. She had a middle name that she tended to go by, Sitri, but it didn’t feel right to call her by it. Her given name was simply Seiros and that was a far too awkward can of worms for her to bother to open. Edelgard had taken to calling her the last name and the honorific ‘lady’. 

“It would be no trouble at all, I assure you. I’m sure she would love to have Greta around, she’s always talking about how she misses having a small kid,” Jeralt said. 

Edelgard motioned with her hips for Jeralt to follow her. “How would you feel if I were to pick your brain about some stuff, just about the Professor?” She asked. “I’ve got a bottle of Adrestian Brandy, aged in charred oak barrels since 1092; yours if you want it…” 

Jeralt laughed. “1092? That was a good year. Now you’re speaking my language, Empress,” he followed her back into the upper Cardinals Room. “Why are you squirreled away into this dusty old place?” 

Edelgard shrugged. “It felt somehow appropriate. It’s so large and loud down in the dinning hall and more people seem to be arriving by the second.” 

Jeralt used his foot to pull a chair out from the table and patted the spot on the table in front of it. “For you.” 

“You’re quite the gentleman,” Edelgard said. “That’s not the kind of thing that always makes it into those songs and stories.” 

He left an empty seat between them and sat down with his chair facing part of the way toward her. “I don’t pay attention to those things. Every time I’m somewhere and some minstrel starts up a verse of that damned ‘_The Bravest Blade Breaker_’ song my face turns all red and all I can think about is how fast I can get the Hell out of there!” 

Edelgard laughed. “Seems like you don’t like the attention, well it suits you.” 

“I try not to let it get to me,” he said. He watched intently as Edelgard placed a glass on the table and poured it nearly to the top. Greta swiped at it, but Edelgard blocked her hand from making contact and then pushed the glass toward Jeralt. He lifted the glass and took a sip from it.

“What was it that you wanted to ask me about?” Asked Jeralt. 

“It was about Professor Byleth. When she was little how…what kind of child was she?” Edelgard asked. 

Jeralt laughed. “She was inquisitive and kind of snarky—she gets that from her mother mostly.” 

“You’ve got a bit of snark in you too. You forget that I’ve worked with you on a few occasions,” she said. 

“Remire village and the attack on the chapel,” Jeralt said. 

“I’m shocked you remember those missions from all those years ago. When you fight alongside the Jeralt it’s a big deal, but you working with students shouldn’t even be that memorable.” 

“I remember most of my missions, especially those where I work with my baby girl. And those were particularly—memorable. I don’t think in all of the time I’ve worked here that I’ve seen demonic beasts inside the walls and then those students…after we killed those monsters those kids bodies were left behind. I still think about it,” said Jeralt. 

Edelgard sighed. “Our school year was eventful, but it ended on a high note, at least. And there hasn’t been any sign of trouble like that again—at least not that I’ve heard.” 

“The Western Church still pulls their stupid shit from time to time,” Jeralt finished his drink in one long pull and she slid the bottle toward him. “You’re not going to have any?” 

“Can’t. It’ll taint the milk,” she said. 

“Ah, sorry. I wasn’t thinking. Most royalty wet nurses their little ones,” he said. 

“Women of the Imperial Household don’t believe in that practice. My mother fed me from her own breast and I see no reason to stop now. I think—I know that’s one of the problems with this world,” Edelgard said. “The royalty wants to be so high above everyone, above humanity because there’s a crest in their blood. That way of thinking has led to your issues with the Western Church, it led to the troubles from five years ago…” 

Jeralt cut her off. “It led to the Flame Emperor?” 

Edelgard had to fight to keep a straight face. No one had said that name in her presence in nearly four years. She hadn’t thought about that part of herself since the dance with Dimitri or what she told that woman Kronya later that night.

“That’s a name I haven’t heard in a while,” Edelgard said. 

“Rhea seems like she’d rather forget it too, but that guy was a thorn in our sides for most of a year and then he just _poof_ vanished. He was in league with the Death Knight and I know he’s still around. Byleth treats him like a practice dummy, she’s kicking his ass all over the countryside. Every time she’s on a mission he seems to show up to cause trouble.” Jeralt poured more brandy. 

Edelgard moved so abruptly that it caused Greta to stir for a moment. “Professor Byleth is still fighting that…thing?” 

“Yeah,” Jeralt chuckled offhandedly. “She knocked a piece out of his mask a while back, blood was running down his chin.”

“Have any of those other people showed up? The ones like Solon?” Asked Edelgard. 

“I haven’t heard anything about it if they are.”

“I just—I wish that she would have written to the Empire for help,” Edelgard said. 

Jeralt shook his head. “She’s got the knights and her students to back her up, plus you were looking after this little tike.” Jeralt reached over and jiggled the baby’s shoulder. 

A sound like thunder erupted from somewhere outside, shaking the walls. Then another sound, identical to the first was followed by trumpets that blared out from somewhere nearby. 

“Sounds like some more guests are arriving. It’s probably the Kingdom Army arriving,” Jeralt said.

Her heart leapt so forcefully that her hands trembled for a moment. The arrival of the Kingdom of Faerghus meant the arrival of Dimitri. It had been some time since they had last spoken in person, kissed, touched, or done other things. She had tried to push the thoughts of this reunion to the back of her mind because it was a constant distraction that plagued her. 

Thoughts of how she wanted him, of the things they did alone in the bed chambers of Enbarr upon their last meeting. Especially the things of his skilled way with his fingers and tongue. She squirmed in her seat at the thought, but stood fully to her feet to avoid being too obvious. 

“We could go out there together to meet them?” Jeralt said. 

“I’d be glad to accompany you,” Edelgard said in her most measured tone. 

* * *

* * *

Hubert’s hand was clamped down over Bernadetta’s mouth to keep it closed and prevent her from crying out. Bernadetta had no qualms about admitting that she was a screamer. This was one of the games they played to avoid getting caught and because she genuinely liked the thrill of him holding her as still against her little bucking fits as he searched inside of her as if he had lost something. 

They were sitting in the bench seat of the person carriage of House Varley, with her sitting on his lap. Huberts cloak partially covered them both, but it didn’t matter as they had the entire carriage to themselves. It had come with them all the way form the Empire and even when heading out to the battle it was to take a carriage and give some of the flying mounts and foot soldiers a rest. 

Their reason for making sure that they were alone was obvious. Bernadetta did love her games. She tilted her head away, letting out a small exasperated sound as Hubert pressed his lips to her neck, tracing the path created by the vein running beneath her skin. 

Bernadetta whimpered. 

“Is this to your liking, my love?” Hubert asked her. 

Bernadetta nodded. “I’m almost…almos—“

Something hitting the side of the carriage rocked the whole thing, through the cracked the metal blinds a pair of eyes peered in. Faded green hair trapped against the forehead the was pressed against the window trying to see in. 

Bernadetta yelped. “Stay away!” She shouted. 

“Guys! You’re finally here. I know you’ve got some of those little licorice sticks in there. You always have them in this carriage!” Caspar von Bergliez said just before he tried the door. “Hey, this thing is locked.” 

“Ahh,” Bernadetta shouted. “We’ll be out in a minute!” 

* * *

* * *

Caspar continued to press his face against the glass of the carriage, though he couldn’t figure out why anyone would stay inside of the thing. It looked to be dark and all of the festivities were going on out here in the real world—not that Hubert or Bernadetta were very known for a being sociable.

A hand grasped at his ear from behind, tugging him until he stumbled down from the carriage step and out into the thoroughfare where all of the horses and vehicles passed. 

“Ow, ow, ow,” Caspar was doubled over and at the mercy of his captor. “What are you doing?” He asked as he stumbled along. 

Caspar twisted, breaking away and spinning around to face the culprit, Fleche he von Bergliez. He had known just by how she was pinching his ear tight. Their trip to the Monastery from their homeland had been a long one filled with instances of her making sure that he didn’t get too out of hand. 

“What are you doing crawling into people’s carriage windows like some kind of peeping creeper!” Fleche said, her hands falling to rest against her hips. Fleche was slightly younger than Caspar, despite being his half-Aunt. She had light brown colored hair that dangled down the sides of her face in braids. 

“It’s not like they were in their bedroom,” Caspar shrugged, his eyes closed as if to show how little he regarded the privacy of personal carriages. “Besides, they’re both pretty reserved people. I’m sure they’re just in there to avoid having to deal with all of the pilgrims from the Kingdom and the Church soldiers who went out to help guide them in.

“Forget about your licorice candy. There’s plenty to do around here,” Fleche said, her powder blue eyes going wide for just a moment. She dragged him away from the carriages and toward the main gates where the marketplace had always been when he was part of the Black Eagles here. The market was bigger now with small vendors spilling up the castle steps and even being allowed into the area near the stables. 

Bells from one of the Monastery’s many chapels rang out over the campus playing a jaunty melody that was used to signify that travelers had arrived. In his time at the Officers Academy it had only really been used a few times, but this was by far the most intense celebration the whole of Fódlan had ever seen. For most of the trip Fleche had rambled on about the estimated number of visitors that would be going. 

Events commemorating the thousand year anniversary of the Monastery had really started at the beginning of the year. All worshipers had been encouraged to make the trek even if this was the only time that they ever would in their life. There wouldn’t be another moment like it for a thousand years. 

“Look, there’s the Empress with some weird…guy…” said Fleche.

Caspar gazed up toward the spot where Fleche was pointing to see Edelgard making her way along the second floor walkway of one of the buildings, following in her wake was a huge man with sandy brown hair and a determined gait. The two of them were surrounded by Imperial Guards. 

“That’s no weird guy, that’s Jeralt!” Caspar yelled nearly bowling over Fleche. “Edelgard! Jeralt! Down here! Hey!”

Wit the ringing of the bells and all of the sound from the arriving people there was no chance they were going to hear him. He glanced around. “We gotta find some way up there.” 

“Maybe we can just see her later? I’d really like to meet Empress Edelgard though…” Fleche said. 

“Ha, yeah I could totally introduce you. Me and Edelgard are like that,” Caspar said holding up two fingers together to indicate closeness. 

“Y-you’re that Caspar kid, right?” A woman yelled from behind him. Caspar turned to see a woman with her dark red hair pulled up into an ornate braid on either side of her head. Her light brown eyes searched his face for any sign of recognition. “Remember, you rescued me?” She asked. 

“You’re Monica, right?” Caspar snapped. “You kind of disappeared near the end of the year there,” he said. His memory was foggy, but he could swear he heard that she was being allowed to finish out her graduation year with the Black Eagle House and then she vanished again right around the time that the White Heron Cup.

“There was a bit of a family emergency,” Monica said, brushing a loose tendril of hair away from her face. “Have you seen the imperial child yet?” 

Caspar shook his head. “No, but I was hoping to. Did you?”

“I doubt the Empress will let you near her baby, you don’t wash your hands,” Fleche said. 

Monica snickered, but loud enough that it was clear over the crowds. “Is this your wife?”

“No. I’m his aunt,” Fleche said. 

Monica made a little sound. “Hmm,” she said. “Then maybe I’ll have to catch you around—later when things are less hectic.” Monica touched the side of his face, sweeping her fingers back along his cheek. With that she moved off through the crowd. 

“What was that?” Asked Fleche.

“You know how it is with us Bergliez men, ladies can’t keep their hands off us,” Caspar said as he curled his arm up next to his head so his bicep bulged out. 

“Ew.” 

“Come on, we need to try and catch Edelgard,” Caspar said as he stooped down and hoisted Fleche onto his shoulder. She cried out. “We can move faster this way, calm down.” 

“I’m wearing a skirt, people are going to…” 

Caspar was already moving through the crowds too quickly to hear her as he pushed his way toward the area where he had last seen his country’s ruler. 

* * *

* * *

It was nightfall before Dimitri had his first chance to get a look at Edelgard up close. There was a reception in the newly constructed Grand Ball Room. He was already at the long table meant for the leaders of nations when she took her seat next to Claude. It had been some time since they were this close together, just one person between them. That one person happened to be one of the few who might reason out any sort of coded message they tried to make conversation with. 

Dimitri held his tongue, glancing up to admire the domed ceiling above their table that depicted the Goddess Sothis encircled by the symbols of the known crests. All of this area had been the ruins of the old chapel when he was in the Officer’s Academy. There had been a lot of construction and remodeling in preparation for the celebration of the Church’s first thousand years and it had made getting around the campus a little difficult. 

Their table stretched along one side wall near the center where the dome was overhead. A line of guards made up of their most trusted troops formed a barrier between them and the common folk. The presence of guards was hardly noticeable and people were still allowed to approach the table, though few did. 

Claude reached over and stole a shrimp off of Edelgard’s plate, staring her in the eye as he spoke. “So is this the first time you’ve had an Almyran Prince at one of these things?” 

Edelgard narrowed her eyes, glaring at him. “Yes. It might be the last, you’re not making much of a case for your manners.” 

“I’m oozing charm and manners, Princess,” Claude said. 

Holst Goneril snorted, almost spraying wine from his nose. He was a huge man with arms that seemed to be as large as a regular man’s waist and a bushy, pink beard. 

“Glad you’re here friend, at least someone appreciates my brand of humor, huh?” Claude asked. 

“It maybe that or it may just be that my dear baby sister has been dumping Dagdan Wine into me since we got into the Oghma Mountains,” Holst said and even as he spoke he was holding a glass that sloshed with deep red wine. 

The leaders of the four countries that had made it so far were in seated together at this table: from the Leicester Alliance there was Holst Goneril, Claude von headed up Almyra which was to the East of Fódlan through The Locket, Edelgard lead the Adrestian Empire, and finally there was himself. 

Baby Greta was nearby, sleeping in bassinet that was draped with red and gold linens. Though she was resting, her tiny face would scrunch up from time to time or she would open her mouth to yawn. It was like every time he glanced at her he couldn’t tear his eyes away. What if people started to suspect something? What if someone was out there waiting for a way to finish what they started at Duscur? The only people he had left that mattered in that way to him were all under this roof, unguarded and eating and laughing. 

Light music was being played by a string quartet on the opposite side of the room, wafting through the air to embed itself in the white noise of conversation taking place between the various guests in attendance. 

Edelgard’s personal guard captain, Ladislava, stepped up to the table. Her armor jangled together as she came to a stop and dropped to one knee. “Your Grace, if you would like Hubert has offered to tend to Lady Greta while you eat…perhaps to give you some alone time.” 

“If I had wanted alone time I wouldn’t have had a child,” Edelgard said looking up from her soup. “I cherish my time with her, she’s fine as she is, but thank you Ladislava.”

Ladislava bowed and moved back to her table, a little ways to the side. 

“If she can sleep through this then she’ll be a great leader,” Claude said. “Being able to cut out all the background chatter and noise is a big part of it.” 

“Hopefully her skills won’t be as tested as they would have in the past and she’ll grow up in a world where the leaders of Fódlan sit down with an Almyran King and just talk,” Edelgard said. 

“I’ll drink to that,” said Holst lifting his glass for a toast. 

Dimitri, Claude and Edelgard joined him. 

“That really isn’t saying much,” Claude said offhandedly as their glasses clinked together. 

The drinking and mirth making went on for several minutes uninterrupted with Claude and Holst joking back and forth like old buddies. Dimitri decided to take this chance to talk to her. The moment that he looked at her though he couldn’t help but feel like he wanted to say damn everyone here, push Edelgard back onto this table and have her way with her. 

These thoughts slipped into his head and he felt like a wild beast. What would think these kinds of things? Surely not a man. 

Dimitri placed his palms flat on the table. “The aid you sent to Duscur has been received well. We’re just starting to try and bring them back to a position where they can govern themselves.” 

“Noble, considering the events of all those years ago,” Edelgard said. “We have to work together to keep the peace, it’s the least I can do.” She smiled. 

“Gr-the Imperial Princess looks lovely,” Dimitri said catching himself. If he were too casual, if he spoke in the wrong tone or anything it could give away their secret. Instead, he tried to remain as level as possible and keep all of his questions neutral. 

“Thank you,” Edelgard said before glancing around to see if anyone nearby might pick up on her next few words. “Her father would be proud to hear you say that,” she said. 

Dimitri’s heart swelled with pride he heard Edelgard say those words. It was a bittersweet sort of pride because he couldn’t be as her father. He couldn’t cuddle up against her or be there for every little glorious piece of progress that she made. He glanced and Greta opening her mouth to yawn. 

“Do you want to hold her?” Asked Edelgard. 

“I’d lo—sure,” Dimitri said taken aback. 

He had held Greta before, of course. He had held her when he visited the Empire soon after Edelgard had the baby, but that had been in private. Most of the little moments between he and Edelgard had. 

Edelgard rose from the table and walked over to the bassinet. She reached into the bed to heft Greta into the air, the small girl was dressed in a red bodysuit with ornate black buttons running down the front. Her head was covered by a small hat. She kicked and wiggled side to side as Edelgard brought her close to her chest. 

“My special baby girl, where is she? There she is!” Edelgard said. 

“You look pretty comfortable doing that,” Claude said. 

Edelgard rubbed her face against the baby’s cheek. “I’ve had some practice. When I was younger there were—young family members.” 

Dimitri had never heard that story from her, but the thought passed from his memory quickly as he realized that there was something alluring about the way that she held Greta. There was a softness to her stance, but with this protective posture and movements. 

He had kept himself from fixating on it earlier, but the red dress that she had worn was open part of the way down the leg and he could see her, more of her than he usually saw in public like this. The cut of the cloth and the way that she rested Greta on her hip, bouncing the baby girl along with the elated expression on her face caused a heat to rise up in Dimitri. 

_That’s the mother of my child. That’s my daughter._

Five years was coming to a close and he could say without a doubt that she had chosen him, they just had to make the announcement. They had to find a way to bring this subject into the light. Oddly enough they hadn’t planned for this eventuality despite the fact that this had been the end game all along. 

Edelgard walked over to him and carefully handed the baby down to him so that the child was resting in the crook of his arm. Greta was so warm and light, she moved jerky, disjointed excitement that mellowed as he held her. 

“Greta…” Dimitri said. 

The small girl took several unintentional swipes with her arms and made a wet mouth sound before saying the only thing she could reliably say.

“Kitty.” 

Claude leaned over closer to Dimitri and the baby. “That’s right, you little sweetheart, this here is the Kitty King,” he said patting Dimitri on the back. 

“She said kitty,” Dimitri muttered, stunned. 

Edelgard folded her arms, her eyes rolling off to one side. “No, Princess, that’s not a kitty. That’s Dimitri,” she said. “Sorry, it’s the only word she knows.” 

“It’s quite alright,” Dimitri said staring down into his daughter’s eyes. 

There was a sort of hushed commotion that fell over the room as Rhea walked into the room flanked on either side by the Knights of Seiros. Her daughter, Sister Seiros Sitri Eisner followed close behind with her arm laced through that of Jeralt. The school’s main teaching staff was behind them.

Dimitri got to his feet, the baby still pressed close as they made their way into the room. There had been some changes to the arrangements since his time there. Byleth was the fight and battle instructor, it gave her no class of her own, but the school had needed to replace Jeritza von Hrym after he vanished and it afforded her much time to do things outside of the school if needed. 

Dorothea Arnault was close behind Byleth. She oversaw the Black Eagles House, which had been her homeroom five years ago and had been Byleth’s old class. Shamir, who had taken over the Golden Deer House, was next in line followed by Dimitri’s old classmate Ashe who had somehow found his way into a position teaching the Blue Lions as of this year. 

Hanneman von Essar had retained his position as Crest Scholar at the school and was one of the foremost experts on the subject in the world though he now worked in the library. Dimitri had spoken to him some time ago in Faerghus after the Mittlefrank Opera performed. He made trips whenever he could to see Manuela Casagranda. The two of them had married sometime after Dimitri graduated and she had left the school, though they were both here now. 

Mercedes had taken up duties in the infirmary, she and Seteth were the last of the staff to filter into the room, though they were the only ones actively chatting. It was hard not to talk to Mercedes and she often only talked about one of two things: sweets or ghosts. She still wrote to him monthly about how life was at the Monastery. 

The long line of staff members fanned out to take their seats at tables, some of them mixing around into positions that made more sense. Mercedes pressed in close to her wife, Byleth and the two of them embraced with their chairs touching. Shamir leaned against the table, her back nearly touching where Ashe chose to sit, though he didn’t seem to mind. Sitri sat in Jeralt’s lap and he held her in his arms as he kissed her bare shoulder. 

Rhea continued to the center of the room, stopping just in front of the line of guards produced by the three kingdoms. She nodded to their table and then to the staff. 

“It seems that we have quite the crowd this year,” she said in her usual stoic register of speech. 

“I see spread out through this room the glory of Fódlan and the world beyond. We have old students, friends, loved ones, children of the goddess—all made family through the power of community and our belief in the true mother of this world, the Goddess Sothis,” Rhea said. 

She spread her arms wide out to her sides. “I welcome you all to the Millennium Celebration of the Church of Seiros. Though there are many obstacles that plague the world and that the Church has yet to overcome we are still here basking in the light of the Goddess and working together to secure the future of Fódlan,” Rhea let out a small giggle, something that she didn’t often do when addressing groups, but something about her demeanor in that moment just seemed exhausted. 

“I won’t keep you for long. Some of you traveled very far and your bodies probably need rest,” Rhea said clasping her hands together. “I’m just so glad that you could all be here with me…” 

Dimitri couldn’t have been the only one to notice she seemed gone, something inside of her had changed and though he couldn’t definitively say she looked older she just _looked older_. 

The room had been taken over by the normal sounds of conversation again. Seteth crossed the room in a flutter of steps that Dimitri was sure that he hadn’t even seen him use on the battlefield all in an attempt to get to Flayn and Dedue and the baby. 

“Eh,” Claude said raising his hand and waving across Edelgard’s line of sight. “Either the Little Princess took a shit over here…or King Kitty did.” 

Dimitri glanced down to see his daughter was sound asleep in his arms. He didn’t think he had done anything to warrant this kind of trust from her, but perhaps she knew more than anyone could have guessed about who he was to her. 

* * *

* * *

With talk of changing babies and the food being a little heavier than he had expected Claude saw an opportunity to finally get something out of the way when he spotted Hilda stealing a bottle of liquor from one of the tables. She glanced around like she didn’t expect anyone to see her and then made her way out onto the chapel grounds. 

There was something carefree and fluid about her movements, she was still just as he had remembered her. She exuded this laziness, this kind of do-nothing-energy that made people not suspect her. He knew better, Hilda had been an incredible fighter and had even been able to go toe to toe with many of the Knights. Though you would never know if you heard her tell it. 

He followed her through the tall grass, wondering all along if she heard his footsteps. They walked for some time until they were under the shade of the trees at the edge of the forest with the grand ball room where everyone else was stood in the background surrounded by guards and torches. 

“You sure that it’s safe for you to be out here with one of us vicious Fódlanians?” Hilda asked as she pried the cap off the bottle. 

“Come on, Hilda. You’re not still mad about that, are you?” Claude asked. He stopped a ways out from her and scratched the back of his head as he looked up the slightly incline toward her.

“Still mad about that…you say _that_ like you burned my toast or something. You lied to all of us about who you were. You lied something huge. How can I trust anything else you say?” Hilda asked. 

“I lied all the time, you saw me do it. And why are we having the argument years after the fact?” Claude asked. 

“Because you were leaving before and what was I supposed to do? Be the bitch who got mad at the guy who ensured that her brother wouldn’t die in some silly spat with the Almyrans?” 

This close to the woods there was a thick musky smell that wafted in under the trees. It had always been out here in the past and somehow it seemed to be the kind of thing that you wouldn’t want your huge spectacle of a ball being so near. The very air with the smell in it seemed to cause Claude’s throat to itch. 

“I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you what was going on or where I was from. There were people who were adamant that I didn’t do that and you know the kind of attitude that there is toward my people. I wanted to change that, but I also wanted you to see me as who I am, not who I am despite where I’m from.” 

Hilda’s legs buckled and collapsed onto her knees in the grass, her pink dress fanning out around her body. “Shit,” she said rubbing the back of her hand across her eyes while keeping the bottle upright. “When my dad passed a few months ago I started to just go into the Almyra and find you. I really needed my friend.” 

“I wrote you a letter, but I never could send it. I just heard what happened and it felt like the kind of thing that I needed to say something about. I was sorry to hear about you lost, I think we all lost out. The one thing I knew about your father was how level headed he was—you always told me that. We needed more of that in the world.” 

She took a long swig from the bottle and reached up to hand it to him. “Thanks,” she said trying to catch her breath. “You want some?” 

Claude took the bottle and turned it over in his hands a few times, looking down at it. He couldn’t read it in the darkness, but he could feel the cold weight of it in his hands, smell the astringent alcohol. He turned and chucked it toward the woods. Before Hilda could protest or really say anything he flopped into the grass next to her, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and squeezing her tight. 

“If I could go back…if I could lie to everyone else all over again you’re the only person I’d tell.” He spoke directly into the side of her head just above her ear. “You’re my best friend Hilda and I’ve had a long time to think about it.” 

“I guess I have to face my thoughts clear headed now that you threw all that alcohol away,” Hilda said straining in his grasp. 

Claude let her go. “Maybe it was a bit drastic. It was meant to be a grand gesture.” 

“The grand gesture would be you going out there and finding that bottle,” Hilda said. 

Claude shook his head. “Not happening, but I will walk with you around the grounds,” he said offering out his elbow. She linked hers through. 

“There’s a lot we can catch up on, I guess,” Hilda said. 

* * *

* * *

Near midnight, when the monastery slowed to its most dormant and students had been emptied out of the library and the courtyard and ballroom, Edelgard and Dimitri to slip off together. It wasn’t even truly ‘together’. They left through separate doors at different times and took a roundabout routes. The agreement was that they sync up in Dimitri’s quarters. Since the dormitories had students in them and they were hardly fit for a King, Empress or High Born Noble of the kind of stature had shown up for the festival there had been housing renovated and worked on behind the dormitories that existed and off to the side of the sauna.

Edelgard, who had placed Greta Hubert’s care for the night, was the last to make her way to the room. It was the intended way things had to be. She stopped by her own quarters to change into something different: a lace garment that resembled the kind of mages that a robe wore on its outer most level, but when opened it offered far less covering only bothering to really conceal the most essentially scandalous parts. 

Over this she threw on a heavy red coat that clasped in the front. If she were spotted walking down the halls by anyone the plan was to tell them that she was going for a walk. She would pass by and head outside until such a time that she could see it was safe and then double back to Dimitri’s room. 

She opened the door, breath caught in her throat as the excitement and fear she fought so hard to keep in check mingled together. Edelgard checked both ways down the hall and spotted no one. Everything in this new part of the school still held that rich lacquered smell.

Quickly Edelgard took quiet bounding steps down the hall toward Dimitri’s door. She checked behind her before trying the knob. They decided that knocking might be too much. Like he had promised the door was unlocked. 

“Lady Edelgard,” Dimitri said upon meeting her eyes with his. He was standing in the center of the room with the bed just off to his side. He wore less than he had at dinner, but he was clearly still dressed to a greater degree than her. His tunic was a deep navy blue with a golden embroidered coat of arms across the chest, two spears were crossed behind it. 

“Dimitri,” she closed the door behind herself and began to remove the heavy brown coat. 

He bounded to her side, catching hold of the first arm out of the coat with one hand and shoulder of the garment with the other. “Let me help you, milady.”

She laughed. “Dimitri, I’m a grown woman completely capable of removing my coat…” 

“I haven’t seen this…dress before,” he said pausing and craning his neck to look her over. “It’s gorgeous.” 

“That’s sweet. I own several things that you haven’t seen, I’m going to make it a habit of showing you each of them in turn, my love,” she said as she hung the coat on one of the many hooks that protruded from the wall behind the door. 

The rooms that had been constructed specifically for this were a rustic kind of beautiful. Nothing really to match the extravagance of the noble houses scattered through out Fódlan, but Edelgard could appreciate the honey brown walls with their strained pattern. The floors were plush, carpet inside of the rooms with a color matching to the primary color of the home country of the person who it was meant for: blue in Dimitri’s and red for hers. She assumed Claude’s was a golden yellow. 

The furniture was all new with wood still showing the spots where the shaver had peeled away the outer rough layers and bark. Candles had been burning in this place for what smelled like days to cover the smell of fresh sawdust and glues and paints, but those were the smells she would have rather had to contend with. 

Dimitri drew her to him, taking her leading her toward the middle of the room by the arm. When he stopped he turned and grasped her by both wrists, massaging the tender skin above her veins with his thumb. 

Heat gathered behind the bridge of her nose as he ran his fingers through her hair. She had let it down and brushed the most egregious of the tangles out. But the act of even brushing it left her hair with a fuller voluminous look. Dimitri loved playing in her hair to a degree that she found it odd, but she did like how it felt. He would lay with his arm swathed in it. He had even, much to her confusion, wrote in a letter that he feared washing his hands after leaving her because the smell of her hair would leave him. 

Dimitri was a bit of an over-sharer at times. 

He planted a kiss on the side of her forehead. “Are you as excited as I am about the prospect of us not having to hide ourselves anymore?” 

“I’m frankly scared. Five years seems to have passed too fast and I worry that we haven’t gotten to spend as much time together as I would like. It feels like that’ll be our future, passing like merchants traveling between distant settlements. There will be two countries we still have to rule, millions of people we can’t just let down…” 

“One man used to rule all of Fódlan and his blood courses through your veins,” Dimitri said. Before she could answer or protest he scooped her up into his arms, cradling her at the upper back and under the knees, and buried his face in her neck. 

Edelgard laughed hysterically. “What are you doing?” She asked.

He kissed her again on the lips. 

“Did you lock the door?” Edelgard asked, her voice low and raspy now. “I didn’t,” she added.

Dimitri glances to the door and then back down at her. “I haven’t been near the door,” he said. 

“Carry me over to it. To the door,” she said breathlessly. 

Dimitri sured up his grip around her, and with Edelgard bundled up in his arms, he made his way to the door. Before she could turn the deadbolt knob he was upon her again, sucking at the side of her neck just below the ear until he coaxed a purr out of her. 

He placed his lips right next to her ear and whispered. “Is there anything else on your mind, my Empress?” His steps felt shallow below her, it was as if she barely had weight. There was something sensual about the strength, though it made her feel small and caged in, it also felt safe showing this side around.

There was no way he would question her leadership skills or feel threatened by her own prowess. 

“On my mind? Have you tired of me already? I didn’t think it would happen so soon.” She teased. 

Dimitri dropped her back into the bed, though he did so being mindful of her head. That much was obvious from how he moved. 

“You think I could grow tired of this?” He crawled up onto the bed on his knees and knuckles. One hand fell between her thighs into the plush feathery top of the bed; the pace of her heart quicken more. She could feel that little thing stirring inside of her. How had they managed this secret so long? How had they hidden these feelings from every? 

The thought of Dimitri was enough to drive her into a frenzy of daydreamed encounters. Hearing his name spoken was too much for her at times. And if that was the case seeing him was…

“El,” Dimitri said in a breathy whisper as he held his crawling position above her. 

“Hmm,” she answered, though her tone suggested that she was hardly still there her eyes were fixed on his face and she took note of the way his golden blonde hair framed his chiseled jaw and how the little half smile on his lips pulled his cheekbones just right to make him look impossibly handsome. It had been months since they last had this opportunity and part of her had been salivating for it for days, but she knew better than to squander this anticipation. 

Edelgard unfastened his pants, leaving them hanging open. Dimitri went up onto his knees, now straddling her to get out of his shirt the rest of the way. He tossed the thick garment to the side and she wasted no time reaching up to touch his chest. 

Dimitri attacked her inner thighs, kissing his way all along them and taking time to let his breath wash over the skin there. 

“When was the last time you had release, my King?” Asked Edelgard . 

Dimitri looked up at her, his eyes barely cresting above the white linen small clothes that covered her crotch. “You mean…”

“For a man who is staring straight at the cusp of my womanhood you seem to still be shy about it,” Edelgard said. “I can tell you that near a week ago I was worked into such a state that it was all I could do. I thought of you, the feel of you, the way you call my name and look at me and, well, I definitely got the thing done.” 

He sank his head back in between her legs, tugging at the clothing in the way to get at what was inside.

“I waited for you as long as I could. About four days since the last time I loosed my seed,” Dimitri said. 

Edelgard caught his hair, drawing him up. “Then we need to get that taken care of first,” she said as she moved away from him and got back up onto her knees. Her hand went into his open pants and it took no time for her to find what she wanted. “I’ve missed your cock.” Edelgard gripped him with one hand and pushed his chest with the other causing him to lay down in the bed. 

“El…” she felt his manhood tense in her hand as he spoke, she felt it twitch with each slow elongated stroke. Dimitri let out a tortured gasp as she moved climb over the top of him, keeping him in her grip.

“I know what you want to do to me, what you really want to do,” she said kissing her way across his chest. 

Dimitri was always so giving and engrossed in her pleasure, but it wasn’t as if she needed to be treated like some soft thing and have someone constantly do for her without accepting anything in return. Edelgard had spent the better part of her life relying on herself and even now when she had people she could truly call friends she didn’t want to be this passive creature who flowed on the current of the world around her. 

She valued the vulnerability she was allowed around Dimitri, but loved the level of control she could exert over him at times. Clearly, by the way he spurned her on with softly spoken pleas and tapered moans he loved it too. 

So when Edelgard forced as much of Dimitri as she could take into her mouth, when she grabbed his ass to guide his thrusts into the back of her throat it was in part about her being in control, but it was a loss of control that they balanced between them, letting it ebb to and fro as they desired.

* * *

* * *

Their time apart always led to rather ambitious love making, the kind of sex where they did things that they couldn’t put to words in the daylight. It felt that in the privacy of a room where they weren’t just expected to be the leaders of large nations they were different people. 

People who were somehow still Edelgard von Hresvelg and Dimitri Alexandre Blaiddyd, but a different version of them. Ones tailored made for each other. These first encounters after a long drought were always somewhat difficult in the end. They could rarely spend the night in the bed together, once when they were still at the Monastery and these things were much, much tricker, they had fallen asleep in Edelgard’s room after a night together. All of the subterfuge and quick thinking they had to employ to get out of there would have made even the most renowned tactician proud. 

Tonight’s rendezvous took meticulous planning, five years of doing this had taught them well. Edelgard’s departure went fine, technically, but the issue was that she didn’t want to go and he didn’t want her to leave.

Part of her thought that this close to them revealing their relationship that getting caught might not be the worst thing that could happen, but the part of her that thrived on making sure that the outcome that she desired was as assured as possible didn’t want to allow for an element of the unknown. 

Though Dimitri employed all manner of tactics to get her to stay, she slipped out of the room back into the hallway. Instead of heading straight to her own room she made her way to Hubert’s. 

He opened the door almost as soon as he knocked, pulling it back to peek around it. His smile deepened. 

“Lady Edelgard, did you find everything okay?” He asked. “I didn’t expect to see you…Bernadetta and Lady Greta are sleeping.”

Edelgard stepped into the room to see Bernadetta rocking in a chair by the window, one that they had moved from Edelgard’s own room. She hadn’t thought about it, but it had been provided just because she had the baby. There wasn’t one in here before they dragged it over and Dimitri didn’t have one either. 

Bernadetta held Greta to her chest, both of their eyes closed. Their breathing was slow, rhythmic and in sync. For a moment Edelgard was frozen in the near the door.

“I can’t stand the thought of waking them,” said Edelgard. “Greta can sleep here for the night,” she was whispering now.

Hubert closed to gap between them, he glanced back to his wife and Greta. “Did your time with Dimitri turn out well?” He spoke in a low tone. 

“Things went very well.” Though Hubert had been there for most of her life and seen her in various states, it was still very odd to have him ask her about what he had to know was her sex life. At the same time it would be odd not to answer—they tried their best to be completely honest and upfront with each other. 

And he always had a way of knowing if she was keeping something from him. Before she even knew that there was something wrong in her expression, before she could fish the thought that something was wrong out of all the others swimming around.

“What’s that?” Hubert asked leaning close to her. “If there’s something the matter, Lady Edelgard—even if it’s something between you and Dimitri you can tell me.” 

A soft smile overtook Edelgard’s face. “He’s very…vulnerable with me,” she said. “And he’s open and raw and honest, but there’s something else there—something hidden.” 

“Everyone has something hidden in their past. Are you not doing the same with aspects of what you sought to do to Fódlan? What you still desire to do?” said Hubert. 

Edelgard sighed, her attention turning to Greta where the small girl was laying on Bernadetta. “I never thought of it like that, but can I ask you something Hubert. It’s probably the most serious thing I’ve ever asked you and I need you drop the pretense of being duty bound to me if you’re to answer.” 

“Of course, Lady Edelgard.” 

“How can I plunge this world into the flames of war when I have a daughter who will have to deal with those consequences, who might have to live in a world without anyone who truly loves her?” 

“I thought that you were out to free everyone, including Greta, from this yolk of lies that they have been saddled with?” Hubert said.

For a moment she thought she sensed movement in the hallway, Edelgard turned, but didn’t make for the door. Her hand slowly rose up on the side of her face and Hubert, having had far too many conversations art hushed tones like this with her in the past, knew exactly what this meant. 

“Perhaps we spoke too freely,” Edelgard said. 

“Is someone there?” Asked Hubert. 

“It must be my imagination,” she said. It was only after that she realized she had been tensed up, every muscle in her body tightened to an almost breaking point. As she relaxed a wave of fatigue washed over her. “I should be heading to my quarters.” 

“Would you do me the honor of letting me accompany you?” Hubert asked bowing. 

“Nonsense,” she said. “There’s hardly a thing in these halls as fierce as me, I’ll do fine on my own.” A slow smile crept over her lips and she wrapped an arm around him and pulled him close for a quick, one armed hug. 

Hubert was stiff, his arms pinned to his sides. He got very strange when it came to these kinds of things, which was odd because he doted on Bernadetta to such a degree that she honestly couldn’t recognize him when it first started. 

“Rest well, Empress,” he said.

“Take care, Hubert,” Edelgard said. “I’ll pick up my Princess in the morning.” 

Part of her fretted over what Hubert had said, the idea that she had abandoned her drive and her everything to just be another emperor. He didn’t want to say it out loud, perhaps he didn’t even want to actively think it, but Hubert was sure that she had resigned herself to letting the world exist as it had for the past millennium. 

If things were left unchecked then the burden of dealing with all of the poisonous things the Church had become would fall to her daughter. The same burden that she had reluctantly carried because it seemed no one else was prepared to do what needed to be done. 

How could Hubert think she had given up after everything they had done? 

She opened her door with the key and as she stepped into the quiet, cool air of the room she noticed that there a breeze, the curtains fluttered lightly at the window. She hadn’t meant to leave it open, though she supposed it felt nice. 

She reached up and gathered her white hair into a tight bunch so that she could fix it up out of the way. Her hands smelled like Dimitri. Surely there would be a slight ache in the morning to remind her of their night together. She wished he would be rougher, but he was far too reserved for all of that just now. Maybe in time. 

Edelgard lit a candle and placed it on the side of the bed. Something white caught the light and gleamed, so she turned to see it perched atop her pillow: a shock of white curling through a red design with two holes sat perfectly apart where eyes could see through them. It had been five years since she last saw the mask and, in all honesty, she had destroyed the thing upon her graduation. 

There was too much risk in leaving it out there. People still connected the Flame Emperor with Flayn’s disappearance or with Duscur or with Remire village. Somehow the Flame Emperor Mask had been reproduced, placed on her bed. She snatched it up, flipping it over in her hands to examine it for any clues. 

The open window? She hadn’t left the window open, that wasn’t something she would have done and she thought nothing of it at first, but it was closed when she left only a short while ago. Someone at the school had known about her or someone who had known about her was at the school. The latter was more likely. 

She hadn’t expected them to act so blatantly again, but it seemed that Hubert wasn’t the only one who doubted her resolve to see her mission through. 

Somewhere across the campus a distant bell rang.


	4. Heir of Power

Hilda stayed still as death. Fear of even breathing too hard kept her pink hair mushed into the pillowy mattress. The thick magenta blanket was tangled around her waist and through Claude’s legs, binding them together. Any movement would be unmistakeable, she was sure of it. If they laid perfectly motionless, if they pretended they weren’t there the banging on the door would stop and their early morning visitor would just resign themself to a breakfast without her.

“Hilda.” The voice was a non-threatening boom; the voice of a brother who knew his sister was a heavy sleeper. “If you don’t come round I’m not having the kitchen save you anything.”

Another set of knocks rattled the door. 

“This is incredibly rude to our hosts, baby sister. And…well, you’re missing out on bacon,” he added.

Claude went to move, but she clamped her thighs down around his leg hard enough that she was sure she heard something pop. She almost slapped the top of his head, but that might have made a sound. Hilda settled for tugging at his messy dark hair. 

He swatted her hand away as he mouthed the word ‘ouch’ at her. “I want that bacon,” he whispered so quietly that she wasn’t sure she had heard him actually whisper anything. 

Hilda pressed a stern finger to her lips, silencing him. She ran through the gambit of lies that she used to get out of unsavory situations and found most of them to be inapplicable. There was no chance of her even slipping out there to distract Holst. Claude’s smell had to be all over her. In her mind she could picture Holst sniffing it out of her hair or skin like a bloodhound and everyone knowing what had happened. 

Goddess, she could still taste Claude in her mouth. What if her brother tried to kiss her? 

“The Archbishop will be very cross if you don’t at least make an appearance—it’s the first day of the festivities. There won’t be a chance like this for another thousand years…”

“Dearest brother, Holst,” she spoke slowly and with as many words as possible without even knowing where her sentence would end up. “I’m having a maiden’s issue—nothing to fret over, but clumsy me. I neglected to bring supplies. would you fetch the professor for me?”

Silence. The air grew thick with a palpable tension. “I’ll notify her and also send a servant up with those little mint chocolates you like,” Holst said, leaning closer to the large wooden door. “I do hope you feel better soon.” 

Hilda waited until his footsteps had ceased to echo down the hall, when it was clear that he made his full retreat. “Holst isn’t grossed out by girlie parts or anything as typically tiresome as that; he just hates blood. That’s why he forgoes Goneril’s weapon in favor of a hammer,” Hilda said with a shrug as she struggled free of Claude and the covers. 

“Why would you bring Teach into this?” Claude said. 

“She and I have a special understanding—even though we weren’t in her class,” said Hilda.

“Uh-huh. As I recall she called you a damned demon at the Battle of the Eagle and the Lion and yelled that you were only pretending to be lazy so you could ruin her life,” Claude mused. 

“She was really mad I wouldn’t give up that hill, not that it stopped her class from winning,” Hilda said right before she balled up her fist and socked Claude in the arm. “Hope you’re happy, by the way—I can’t use that period excuse again for at least a month.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t lie about this. Maybe we need to talk about what happened here like rational adults,” Claude said as he sat up from her bed, his shirt was open the covers fell away from his lap as he adjusted his arm. Hilda turned away before she saw too much more of him.

“What’s there to discuss? You walked me to my room under false pretenses and…and used your weird Almyran charms on me. I’ve never had to deal with that before, I’m perfectly adept at batting down requests from all sorts of groddie nobles from around here. That must be it, Hilda,” she said to herself as she kicked her away through the small piles of clothes on the floor looking for something suitable. 

Claude stumbled out of the bed behind her and stretched. “I didn’t use any kind of trick, Hilda…maybe we just felt something.” 

“Ugh, so corny,” Hilda said. 

She turned and almost shrieked when she saw that Claude was naked from the waist down. More than that little Claude was at full attention for some reason. 

“Awh, why is _he_ so excited?” Hilda pointed an accusatory finger toward his crotch. “It’s too early for that!” She lifted the nearest piece of clothing between her toes and kicked-flung it toward Claude. It fell perfectly draped over Claude’s member like a sheet hanging over a pole. 

“This happens in the morning sometimes…” 

Hilda slipped into a lacy black night gown she had made as it was the nearest suitable thing. “Well, put some ice on it. I don’t like how it’s looking at me.” Sweeping both her hands back past her neck, she pulled her long pink hair out of the back of the gown and dropped it to fall over her shoulders. 

Claude pressed his hand to his forehead, raking it back through his hair, before turning to face away from her. “Sorry, guess I’ll aim it somewhere else.” 

Hilda kept her forearm wrapped across her breasts to cover them, not that Claude hadn’t gotten a look at everything. 

“Look, I’m sorry. This is weird to me. We were close, but things have happened…you’re not really here anymore and I’m just—I don’t know,” Hilda said as she sat on the edge of the bed. “I didn’t know if you would even bother to come back here…”

“Why would I not come back? Because I’m in Almyra?” Claude asked. 

“Yes. You didn’t care enough to stay before. You could have been the leader of the Alliance and you chose to go back home. I can’t blame you—that was your life for so long, but…never mind.” 

“I went back because they needed me, Hilda. The Alliance has your brother and it’s got you. I knew it was in good hands,” he said. 

“I missed my best friend. Then he comes back and he’s got more muscles and this sexy little chin strap beard—why did you really come here, Claude?” Hilda asked. 

Claude sighed and reached up behind her neck and began to rub her back between her shoulder blades. “We all made a promise after the Grand Ball to come back here. We said we’d be here when the Church celebrated its first thousand years. Plus I was really curious about Edelgard’s baby.”

“It’s just a baby. Don’t they have babies in Almyra?” Hilda asked.

With a slight grimace overtaking his features, Claude glared at her. For so many of his interactions he was sure to never let the smile leave his face, even when joking. How long had he been willing to show her more? “It’s more about the idea of Edelgard having a baby; is it just like this super serious, stoic baby?” Claude asked. “I hope she brought it.”

“Of course she did—that baby is probably going to rule the Empire someday. What better way to make her heir known than this? Not like the baby has a choice. I wish I had a choice, Holst dragged me here,” Hilda said. 

Claude ran his thumb over her lips. “Aren’t you glad he did?” His smile was perfectly rehearsed, but she loved it. 

“Never change, Claude,” Hilda said with her cheek pressed to his shoulder. 

“Oh, I already have. Being around you is dragging all of this out of me.” He caressed Hilda’s chin. “It feels good though. Hell, it’s nice to be back in Fódlan,” Claude kissed her on the forehead, but Hilda sat up catching his lips with hers as he pulled away. 

“You’re just saying that because of what I did to you last night…” the corner of Hilda’s mouth curled up into a smirk. 

“What? You don’t think we have blow jobs in Almyra?” Claude said with a chuckle. “Oh we have blow jobs.” 

Hilda pounded her fist into his chest playfully. “I ought to kick your naked ass out into that hall!” 

Someone knocked at the door, slow and steady and only twice. Hilda and Claude froze. The very air in the room had the warmth sucked out of it. Suddenly it became very apparent how under dressed they were. 

“Who’s there?” Hilda asked. 

“Open the door.” The Professor.

Hilda climbed out of the bed and padded across the floor toward the large door. The moment that she unlatched it and gave it a little crack Byleth shoved her way through the door. The Professor had grown her forest green hair out so that it was almost to her butt. It was in a mess of tangles as she had clearly woken up only a moments ago. She smelled like stale alcohol intermingled with two dueling perfumes. 

As Byleth scanned the room and spotted Claude and the mess Hilda had made overnight with piles of clothes strewn about the floor and the bed fully unmade none of it seemed to surprise her. 

“Let me guess, you woke me up for a cover story?” Byleth asked her gaze darling between Hilda and Claude. 

“It’s not all my fault,” Hilda said. “Some maniac burst in here and put Claude’s penis in their mouth.” She paused and bit her lip, glancing over to Claude. “Okay, so it was me…I was the maniac.” 

Byleth pressed further through the room, rooting through the piles of clothes on the floor until she found a bottle of wine. She scooped it up and walked over to the small dresser to push Hilda’s things aside and sat atop the dark wooden surface. With a bit of struggle she worked the cork free and took a big swig. 

“Shocked it took you two this long,” Byleth said. “I know he was tempting me at one point,” she joked. 

“Really?” Claude and Hilda asked before staring at each other. 

Byleth chuckled and took another drink. “Don’t flatter yourself,” she said, just a small burp escaped. “You’ve seen my wife.” 

Hilda had, though they were in different houses at the Officer’s Academy, Hilda had a few interactions with the pious Blue Lions girl, Mercedes. She was one of the older students at the school and had a bit of a mother-hen-complex, thus she had always been easy to guilt into doing you work. The part that made it less fun is that Mercedes always seemed smart enough to know what was happening to her, but she did it anyway. 

With the whole bottle polished off, Byleth sat it aside and scanned the room for another. 

“Isn’t it a bit early in the morning for that much drinking?” Hilda asked. 

“I drink on my day off, classes aren’t happening for this week, so no it’s not too early for drinking. I had planned to spend my whole day fishing and helping my wife bake, but it looks like I’ve got to quell this shit-laced maelstrom you spun up and talk two consenting adults through their feelings…” Byleth dug into Hilda’s bag and pulled out a fresh bottle of liquor to examine the label. 

“You’re grumpy because it’s early, Teach, but in my defense I didn’t think we needed to hide this, I think it would have been just fine to let the chips fall where they may.” 

Byleth shook her head. “Trust your better half on this one, this isn’t the week you want to try and overshadow the event going on with tales about your feelings. My Gran is very invested in celebrating this whole thing. You would think she personally knew Sothis, it’s just a very deeply spiritual thing with her. I’m not sure even I could pull her attention away from it.”

“Lady Rhea has probably been looking forward to this as long as she’s been Archbishop, right? I can see why it’s important to her. Besides that, we don’t need everyone in our business and knowing what we’re up to,” Hilda said eyeing Claude. 

“Ah, so you’re embarrassed of me?” Claude said crossing his arms behind his head, his smile growing so large you could practically hear the twinkle. “You hear that, Teach? Hilda doesn’t want to be seen with me.” 

Byleth stumbled through the room, an exaggerated groan coming from her before she flopped back into the bed to kick her legs like she was having a temper tantrum. It was all an act of course, but it was one Hilda and Claude were meant to see as a serious plea to be left out of this. 

“I wouldn’t lay in that bed if I were you, Teach. There might be a bit of…love brine left on it.” 

“I’ve gotten worse things on me, plus I haven’t showered yet. Or had coffee. Or got to speak to Mercedes—plus I’m about an hour from dozens of current Officers Academy students flocking to my room looking for extra reading assignments, practice sessions, or whatever else.”

“How are your new students?” Hilda asked, crossing the room to sit down next to her old Professor. 

“Well you never forget your first group,” Byleth said turning on the bed so she was looking up at Hilda. “The stakes always felt high with you guys, all three classes had this sort of rivalry that I haven’t seen before or sense, Mom says the whole thing felt like it was a delicate powder keg. Like it could have gone a different way.” 

“I didn’t really get a chance to speak to Sister Sitri last night, how is she?” Hilda asked. 

“Practically perfect,” Byleth laughed. “Helping Seteth more now since he seems super upset over not having his sister around and then just being Mom.” 

“I’ll never forget your Mom coming around to tend to us when the stress from Promotion Exams was getting to us. Every House. She didn’t rest until we felt a little more at ease,” Hilda smiled. 

“Yeah, she’s an amazing woman,” Claude said. 

“I am not my mom though,” Byleth said. “Like I don’t think I ever could be. I get how you think I am some wise teacher person who you can come to,” she took a drink. “But I don’t really feel like I set the best example. Other than Mercedes I can’t think of something else I’ve done right by.” 

“You’re an accomplished duelist, you have mastered riding the three quintessential ‘beasts of war’, and you’re a respected member of the staff at a prestigious military academy,” Claude said. 

Byleth held a hand up as she counted off her counterpoints. “A mere effect of fighting nearly constantly alongside of the Knights and my father, an effect of being forced to keep up with the whims of students, and the affect of blind nepotism…” There was a realization in Byleth’s eyes about something, maybe she figured she had gone too far, but whatever it was she switched topics very quickly.

“You two should just eat breakfast. Wash up first, Claude you walk out with me in case someone does see, they won’t get the right idea. Hilda, tell you brother about what’s going on. I doubt he will care that much and he likes Claude. I’d keep this under wraps other than that, rumors have a tendency to get really out of hand around here,” she added. 

“I seem to remember that much,” Claude said. 

Hilda nodded. 

“It’s good to see you both, maybe I miss those days more than I’d like to admit,” Byleth said as she pushed off of the bed and headed for the door. “I’m going to go wash my hair, maybe I’ll cut it off—I think I felt a wet spot. Keeping this, by the way,” she said thrusting her arm up into the air with the bottle grasped tight. 

Claude scrambled to get as much of his clothing right as possible and followed her out the door. 

* * *

* * *

Felix jerked his head side to side over aggressively to dodging the attempts by the young Eithle to grab his hair. She laughed louder the more he moved, which seemed to only spurn on his discomfort. “You’ve got your father’s wily reflexes,” Felix grumbled. “And grace from somewhere, it certainly wasn’t your mother,” he added. 

Eithle squealed. “Uncle Felith! Uncle, stop!” 

Part of the new dormitory area constructed for the Millennium festival was a rooftop deck with tables and a small bar area where drinks could be made if there was someone to make them. The perimeter of the area had planted bushes and shrubs in beds and a wrought iron fence to keep anyone from falling out past that. 

“Put a sword in this girl’s hand, Dedue, and put me in front of her, we’ll make a proper duelist of her,” Felix tightened his arms around her in an attempt to stop her wiggling, it only seemed to partially work. At the same time he just let her play with the flyaway tendrils of hair that hung on either side of his face. 

“I think Flayn wants to keep this one as far from combat as possible,” Dedue said. “Though I would like for her to be able to defend herself.”

“Yeah,” Sylvain said blowing over the surface of his cup of tea. “The world is a dangerous place, she should at least know a thing or two eventually. I don’t think Lady Flayn would disagree with that.” 

“It’s been so long since we’ve just been gathered like this,” Dedue said. “Even at court it’s like we’re always passing each other, hardly able to sit down and have time alone.” 

Felix shrugged, seemingly settling into his new fate as a practice dummy for a tiny green haired maiden. “Don’t think it too special. The womenfolk tricked us into taking care of this one while they galavant around at the market.”

“You don’t sound like a man too eager to put a bun in his wife’s oven,” Sylvain laughed. 

Felix scoffed. “There’s something to be said about having Annette all to myself. Being able to come and go as we please. I wouldn’t mind things continuing like this for at least a while longer.” 

“Does she feel the same way,” asked Dedue. 

“These walls are as thing as old parchment, I heard her singing to him this morning. I think she’s already got her baby,” Sylvain joked. 

Felix lunged forward a bit, grabbing Eithle so that she didn’t fall. “Maybe you’d like to come find me at the old sparring grounds later and speak that kind of nonsense!” 

Eithle repeated the word ‘sparring’ over and over in a small voice. 

“Calm down, both of you.” Dimitri was sitting at the far end of their small table, he looked like he had been up most of the night, but somehow he seemed excited and on edge too. 

“So the elephant in the room speaks or should I say the Boar,” Felix said. “Why are you grinning like that?” He asked as Dedue picked Eithle up and sat her down. She ran off to play in a nearby flowerbed. 

“Grinning like what?” Dimitri asked. 

“I don’t know. I don’t like my beasts smiling. They can’t be trusted,” Felix said. 

“Can we not do this right now?” Sylvain asked. 

“I’m curious though,” Felix said drinking from his glass. “If the might of House Blaiddyd is to survive into this new millennium of Fódlan Areadbhar is going to need a master, yet our King is still the only bachelor among us.” He pointed to Sylvain. “Even this buffoon managed to trick poor Ingrid into putting up with him, no doubt with a dowry of food…” 

Dimitri held his hand up to quell the impending bickering. “I may have news on the subject soon—there’s been some developments with a young woman I’m courting.”

Dedue looked up shocked, but said nothing. 

“Does she write you letters from Morfis?” Felix asked. 

“She is of Fódlan blood and a good family,” Dimitri said, seemingly choosing his words carefully. “I can’t describe the way that she makes me feel or the person that the look in her eyes makes me want to become.” 

“Well, just remember that if you’re kingdom is to continue we need you to produce some boar cubs…” 

For a brief moment something flashed across Dimitri’s expression, a hint of the animal underneath. Though Felix couldn’t guess at why this was what set him off. 

“Pretty sure boar babies are called piglets, Felix,” Sylvain said. 

“Well I’m not running a goddamn menagerie now, am I?” Felix said partially muffled by his tea. 

“I’m sure that the King would love to let you meet this lady, when the time is appropriate, but perhaps it’s best not bore them with the details of your coupling. It’s unbecoming,” Dedue warned. 

Sylvain laughed. “I’d believe all of this talk of decency,” he started. “If I hadn’t caught you with your head up Lady Flayn’s dress that time I wandered into the kitchen…”

Dudue clamped his hands down over his daughter’s head to cover her ears. 

“I don’t think I’ve heard this one,” Felix said. 

“I was kind of worried that she was going to pop his head with her thighs, then popped out from under the ruffles of her skirt like a newborn and told me that she had dropped the shortening…as if that was somehow an explanation,” Sylvain said. 

“You seem really critical of the affections of others, though I can’t recall seeing you and Ingrid being very affection toward one another,” Dedue spat. 

“Because we have to keep our hands off each other or things will get crazy. If you knew the things we were up to,” Sylvain said waving his hands out in front of him as if to cast a spell. “I couldn’t draw a diagram to appropriately explain it.” 

Dimitri’s face had reddened. “All of this seems hardly appropriate to begin with.” 

“Once the candles in the keep are out and that bedroom door closes it’s like the Battle of the Eagle and Lion…” Sylvain said. 

“The mock battle from five years ago?” Asked Felix. 

“No, the real one between the Kingdom and the Empire. There’s crashing sounds, skin slapping against skin, she’s yelling what’s gotten in my eyes and I’m like ‘I don’t know’ ahhh!” 

“You gentlemen seem to be enjoying the morning air well enough, I couldn’t help but overhear that someone reminiscing about the crash of combat and finding yourself splattered with mysterious liquids in the head of the moment.” 

Sylvain and Felix both jumped, turning to see Hubert standing off to the side of their table with his hands folded behind his back quaintly. 

“Holy Hell man, how did you sneak up on us like that? Are you a vampire?” Asked Sylvain. 

“This is the first time I think I’ve seen him in direct sunlight,” Felix added. 

“My skin burns easily,” Hubert said. “Do you mind if I sit, King Dimitri?” He asked giving a little bow. 

“Not at all, a friend of one crown is a friend of another,” Dimitri said, his words slightly wobbly. “But we weren’t discussing actual combat it was a bit of a…”

“Metaphor for sex. I’m aware. It find it hard to discuss such things seriously back in Enbarr. It seems inappropriate to share them with Lady Edelgard and many of the other lords have this awful idea of me being too dark for pleasant discourse simply because I killed care of my father.” 

Sylvain stiffened up, but Felix was sure not to make a face. “I had heard rumors, but I wasn’t sure it was the truth.” 

“He talked of a treasonous undertaking when Lady Edelgard was pregnant saying that woman out of wedlock should be removed from her position of power unless the father of the child comes forward. I slipped a dagger into his chest myself during his morning smoke,” Hubert said. 

“A single mother can do whatever she wants. Women are just as good as men, am I right?” Sylvain chuckled nervously before downing the rest of his tea. 

“You’re married to Bernadetta of House Varley, correct?” Asked Dedue. 

Hubert nodded. “You’ve had occasion to meet my wife extensively, when you traveled to the Empire on occasion,” Hubert said, his smile growing.

“True, I was speaking for those who might not know. You wife is a lovely woman, though very private,” Dedue said. 

“Yes, she’s quite the lady. I am lucky to have found someone who sees my eccentricities as charming,” Hubert said.

Felix hadn’t moved from the position that he had flinched into upon first hearing Hubert reveal himself. “Are you expecting us to believe that you found your way over here to discuss the finer details of your married life with the rest of us?” 

“Of course not, I found my way over to you to extend an invitation of sorts,” said Hubert. 

“To what?” Dimitri asked. 

Hubert stared at him for a moment and then continued. “King Dimitri, you and yours are invited to a small tavern down in the town. Lady Edelgard has seen to it that the place will be reserved simply for you and your closest companions. Some of those from the Alliance and Claude will be joining too, it’s simply time that we clear the air about some things.”

“What is Edelgard playing at?” Dimitri asked. 

“This is exactly what is needed, it’s only a day early and everything else can proceed as intended,” Hubert said. 

“What do you mean? What’s he talking about?” Asked Sylvain. 

“It’s nothing.” Dimitri said. 

“No, you need to get to squealing now, You’ve been acting far too weird for too long and I’ve learned to tell when swine is pretending…” 

Dimitri held a hand up to silence him. “Your King said leave it. When the time comes you will know all. Now, I think it’s best that I leave. I’ve got to do some thinking about something.” 

Dimitri rose from the table, throwing his napkin down into the chair. 

* * *

* * *

Edelgard felt his weight pushing down into her, their bodies slicked together with sweat and wetness. It was like he sought to burrow deeper into her with each thrust. They slapped against each other, ground themselves together. His hand is at the back of her head and he’s got a tight hold on her hair. 

A calloused hand snakes around under her thigh, his exploratory fingers finding their way inside of her and he works sliding against her and hooking his fingers in a haphazard come-here motion until her soft breathing and intermittent moans turned into a full body shudder. 

She cried out and winced in shock as he pulled her hair until her belly was pressed down into the bed and she was forced to look up from the darkened bed. The room had s red glow to it, but there was very little light. Her eyes took a second to adjust and it was made harder with him driving down into her. It was then that she realized something: this was the Dimitri in her dreams. It was the way he always was when she cooked up some little fantasy. 

But the smell of him had too much weight to it. That distinct smell of them together wafted around them, being pushed up beneath their bodies as they slammed into each other. The friction, heat, and being stuck to one another. There was an ever so slight resistance as their skin pulled away from with one another’s with each repetitious thrust. It was too real.

Then she saw them. Figures standing off to the side of the bed watching them intently. As her eyes became more adjusted she could make them out: Solon, the man who had posed as Tomas for she didn’t know how long. Pittacus and Myson—members of the group that she had seen from time to time, but didn’t have any real interaction with. 

And Thales was there, his ghost white skin seemed to give off light in the darkness and he walked closer to the bed, staring down at her from over his ruffled collar with a disappointment that would have stung if she could forget what he had done to her. He had probably killed her uncle, torn her from her home, killed her siblings and done awful things to her in the pursuit of his goal. 

Thales had chained Edelgard to his destiny.

The specter that was dream Dimitri was still behind her, pressing into her, but she could feel anger ebbing in, mixing with the other sensations. Edelgard knew that her old conspirators had more than likely retreated into the darkness. She couldn’t afford to believe they were gone or that they would allow the current order to stand. 

Another figure stepped close to the bed and a familiar feeling flooded over Edelgard. She glanced over to see her mother standing over her, a slight smile on her face. 

Her mother had been on her mind a lot more in the past several months since there were rumors of her escaping in Duscur or that she had somehow instigated the whole thing. Had her mother been in league with the same group? Had her mother always been in league with them? Had she only produced children to give those monsters fodder?

“Mother…” she muttered. “Mother no!” 

Suddenly Edelgard became very aware of her nudity, of Dimitri moving in and out of her and the thunderous pounding sound of their bodies together. It wasn’t her real mother, but she couldn’t take her staring at them like this. 

The pounding grew louder and louder until she could feel it vibrating through her blood and shaking the whole room.

The sound became more pronounced and directional. Edelgard lifted her head only to be blinded by the blaring light that blared down through the windows. 

Someone was shouting out in the hallway, there was the sound of boots and slamming doors. Edelgard pulled her pillow up over her head to shroud herself in darkness. 

A heavy glassy object was still nearby her body, she could feel the mask of the Flame Emperor near her shoulder. With the dreams she wondered had gotten any actual sleep or if she had just fallen into a funk where time seemed to pass her by like a statue. 

“Empress Edelgard!” Someone slammed into her door, causing the room the rattle, but she didn’t move right away. It took her a moment to clear enough of the darkness from her mind for her to be compelled to answer. 

“What?” 

“There’s been an emergency,” it was the voice of Seteth. “It’s urgent that you be here.” 

“L-l-lady Edelgard something r-really bad happened. I messed up,” Bernadetta said through the door. “Like really messed up.” 

Edelgard slipped the mask under her pillow and stepped off of the bed. Her feet ached as they touched the floor. 

“What is it?” She said opening the door. 

“Greta was just…just gone…” Bernadetta was crying, her hands ringing at the front of her dress. “When Hubert left this morning she had been there. Then someone came in and…I just woke up on the floor. She couldn’t have gotten out on her own.” 

The impact of her words had a slow effect on Edelgard, it was as if the waves were sweeping over her and rolling back out to sea taking the ground beneath her feet away. The room rocked side to side seeming like it was about to spin. She stuck her hands out as if to steady herself. 

“Gone. What do you mean? She can hardly walk. Surely she couldn’t open doors or pass through walls like a ghost,” Edelgard said. 

“I fear that the only explanation is that she was taken, though we don’t know for what purpose or where to. The school has been quietly locked down. No one in or out,” Seteth said. “This leaves a bad taste in my mouth—it reminds me too much of what happened with Flayn.” 

Edelgard nodded silently, her hand gripping the edge of the door. 

This couldn’t be a matter of happenstance, first there had been the appearance of her mask and then the disappearance of Greta. It felt like penance for the thing she had done five years ago, something that she had never apologized for. 

“There’s no way she could have gotten far on her own and there’s not much chance that the guards would have let her out of the school,” Edelgard said, trying to keep her voice level. 

Seteth nodded. “We spoke to Jeralt and he organized a small group of knights.”

“How many people know what’s happened? Edelgard asked.

Bernadetta peeked out at Edelgard between her fingers. “Huh?” 

“Just those within ear shot right now, a few of the knights, including Captain Jeralt and Lady Rhea,” Seteth said. 

“Then let’s keep it that way,” Edelgard said. 

She desperately wished that Rhea and Seteth hadn’t been brought into this. She shook off any thoughts she had that there might be time to question how Bernadetta managed to go to outsiders before her own countrymen. 

Edelgard walked back into the room and pulled a cloak over her shoulders. There wasn’t time for her to dress properly, but she did grab the dagger that Dimitri had gifted her once upon a time. “Ladislava, you’re with me. Lieutenant Bergliez, I’ll need you to start the search preparations, enlist the help of anyone you can without directly telling them what’s going on.” 

“Yes, Empress,” said Randolph von Bergliez. 

“Bernadetta, go see Mercedes in the infirmary. Tell her nothing of what has happened, but come back here after she clears you to wait for Hubert.” 

“Y-yes Empress.” 

They made their way out of the room and into the hallway, walking down the plush carpets of the hallway. Edelgard waved some of the other Imperial guards that tried to follow away and they looked stunned, but froze in place. Seteth fell in behind them, walking at double speed for a moment to catch up. 

“Is this level of secrecy wise?” Seteth asked, he waited a moment as if he expected her to answer and she heard him, but in her effort to begin the search she couldn’t bring herself to respond. “Would it not be better to spread the word and enlist the help of as many people as possible?” He kept his voice low as someone could pass by or hear from inside of their room. 

“It might be if there were some way a child that young could have knocked Bernadetta out of her chair and opened a door with a knob too high up for her to reach,” said Ladislava.

“There are sentries posted outside of the building exits. Anyone who entered or left would have been seen, especially with a small child,” Seteth said. 

“Not if they left through the window,” Edelgard said. The window of her room had been open when she returned to her room last night. She had kept that and the fact that she’d found the mask from Ladislava as they hadn’t been alone yet. 

Ladislava had been part of the closely guarded plans with the Flame Emperor, but she had also known why it ended. There were those who sat things in motion from the shadows, they had to be behind this. They had to be waiting for a chance to strike back at Edelgard or force her back into the fold. 

As they moved through the hall of the new dormitories and headed down the stairs she could hear a familiar loud voice arguing with someone. Edelgard picked up her pace to make it down to the entrance where two of the door sentries were hassling Caspar. 

“Hands off of me, you glorified doorman,” Caspar yelled, his fist was drawn back and he was making like he meant to hit one of the men. 

“Caspar? Enough!” Edelgard commanded. 

“Edie! I saw you the other day but I couldn’t quite get over to you,” Caspar said dropping his aggressive posture and folding his arms behind his head. “Hey Seteth, we’re looking kind of cute there, Ladislava.”

“We don’t have time for this,” Ladislava said. 

“Caspar, if you’ll excuse us…” Edelgard said. 

He was bigger than she remembered, his body form was more filled out and muscular. Five years had put him at a full head taller than her. She had to look up at him now. 

“Oh? I was hoping to get to spend some time with you. I know you’re super busy and all. But I wanted to meet the baby. Uncle Caspar got her a gift,” said Caspar.

“Please move,” Edelgard said, her voice breaking. 

“What’s the matter?” He asked. 

It was Ladislava that moved on him, pushing him up against the railing just outside the door. The sudden movement must have startled Seteth, because he stumbled back. 

“She said we don’t have time!” Ladislava shouted, her hand on the hilt of her short sword. 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” he said holding his hands up near the side of his head. “What did I do?” 

Edelgard closed the gap, leaning in close to Caspar. She hadn’t interacted with him much since graduation, but she supposed he had never been the kind of be on the wrong side of a thing. He was loyal to the Empire and had a sense of right and wrong. He’d certainly never hurt a child. 

“Greta is missing,” Edelgard said in a low voice. She had feared speaking the words as if just saying them out loud would be the breaking point for her. Edelgard couldn’t let herself cry, not near the door of the dorm. 

“She was with Bernadetta and someone seemingly attacked Bernie and made off with my daughter.” 

Caspar’s expression tightened. “What do you need me to do?” He asked, moving closer to her as if the gravity of the situation was towing them closer to one another. 

“We’re not sure where to start in this endeavor ourselves,” Seteth said. “Unless Lady Edelgard has some idea that I haven’t thought of…” 

“The last time that this happened we found a secret passage beneath the school. Maybe they’re in the same place?” Caspar suggested. 

The final part of his sentence hadn’t left his mouth and Edelgard was brushing past Caspar. She scrambled over the railing into the flower box and bounded off down the path. She could hear them yelling her name, see the people staring at her as she moved. Seteth’s voice was of such a quality that she could hear him the clearest, but soon even his voice had succumbed to the wind rushing past her ears and the thundering of her heart. 

A unique thing about having a Crest was that in times of desperation and great need it was like a well of energy that one could draw upon. Edelgard felt her dual crests now flaring to life, her blood charging with a kind of electricity. Edelgard wove her way through the crowds of people to stop at the courtyard area where they had found the secret passage before.

Edelgard cared little for the damage she might cause now, she slammed her shoulder into the door knocking it inward to reveal a room as she remembered it back then. Clouds of dust rolled and stirred around her in the darkness. 

A sliver of light cutting through the open door behind her and between her legs shone on the spot where Manuela had been laying. There was still a darkened stain where the blood had pooled. 

Getting Manuela out of there had probably saved the woman’s life, but what her classmates didn’t know about that was that it had also allowed Edelgard to come back as the Flame Emperor and stop things from getting too out of hand. It not for that Flayn might have been hurt too. 

She felt the sweat grow cold on her skin; people were staring now. Countless eyes looking at her. There was no way that they had come through here. Nothing had been disturbed inside and there was too much of a chance of witnesses. 

Seteth and Caspar reached her first. 

“Shortly after you graduated we had this place sealed off. There’s no way into that passage anymore,” Seteth explained. “This room has gone unused since then.” 

“So there’s no way…” 

“No,” Seteth said. “But I will do everything in my power to make sure you find your little girl,” he got closer to her. Closer than Seteth ever had in the past. He took her by the hand, lifting her chin with the other until she was looking up at him. “I’ve seen the way you dote on that little girl and it reminds me of myself and Flayn—though she is by my sister, it’s…I mean. We’ll find her. I owe you that much.” 

Her eyes felt heavy. She tried to fight the tear by blinking. If it worked it was just barely.

“Thank you, Seteth. I’m sure we’ll find her.”

Ladislava jogged up, her armor clinking and crashing together as she moved. “It was a novel idea, but it seems almost too perfect. There’s nothing here, is there?” 

“Nothing,” Caspar said throwing his hands up. He turned away from them, his anger seeming to bubble up in him until his arms shook at his sides and then he whirled around and punched the door. “Dammit! I’m racking my brain trying to think of anything that happened. I was coming back late from drinks with that Monica girl, I saw Dimitri in the hallway on my way to my room.”

“You saw King Dimitri moving about in the night? Around what time?” Seteth asked. “I would hate to propose the possibility, but there could be something foul at play here…” 

“Monica?” Edelgard said. Caspar said it as if it were something that she should remember. She thought back and it was only because she had referred to Monica by her other name, her true name, that she didn’t know her. “Kronya,” Edelgard’s voice was hopefully too low and the word too muttered for them to thing it anything other than a curse. In her worrying over Greta she had said too much. 

“What?” Seteth said. 

“That girl, the one that Caspar is talking about was the one that vanished the year before our class arrived here and the same one that was found with Flayn,” Edelgard said. 

“I recall that she never finished the year,” Seteth said. 

“Because I made her leave. She wasn’t who she claimed; having her around was dangerous,” Edelgard said. The story should be sufficient, they had no reason to suspect anything else was at work here. 

Caspar grimaced. “Wait, who was she then?” 

“It’s a long story. Where did you see her last?” Edelgard asked, trying to keep the panic from spilling over into her voice as her suspicions were confirmed. 

“I mean, I figured she’s not from a noble family—but I saw her wandering toward the dorms when I last left,” Caspar said with a shrug. “She might be in the other housing…” 

Seteth stepped in, his face overtaken with confusion. “What do you think happened? Who is she?” 

The fact that the nature of the imposter Tomas was known to the Church. Bodies being able to change radically wasn’t a big stretch for Seteth to make the connection between the student who they found missing after a year not being who they thought she was. 

“We have to hurry, I’m sure if we find her we find Greta,” Edelgard said. “Ladislava, alert the rest of the guard.”

“I would hate to leave you alone, Empress, I…” Ladislava started. 

“I am perfectly fine to take care of myself. You know this. We have to cover as much ground as we can, plus I have Seteth and Caspar with me.” 

Ladislava nodded curtly and made her way back to the rest of the guard. 

Edelgard led the three of them back across the school grounds, leaving the shattered door to the abandoned room behind as they rushed off toward the old dormitories to search. 

* * *

* * *

Despite the festivities associated with the Millennium celebration, Mercedes was glad that there was some level of normalcy in her life. For the past several months, over a year now, she and Byleth had taken breakfast in the office attached to her infirmary every chance that they got. The whole thing didn’t last that long during the week, with them having duties to see to and classes to oversee, but on a holiday like this where things were still being set up they could just space out for a bit and relax. 

She would sit on Manuela’s old desk, the only piece of furniture that had been left behind when she redecorated, and Byleth would sit in a chair between her legs and rest her head on Mercedes’s lap. They would talk or rather Mercedes would as often Byleth would fall asleep. 

Mercedes curled Byleth’s thick, green hair around her fingers. Letting it unravel and pulling her hand through it like a slow, unbalanced comb. Byleth had her arms wrapped around, hugging up in Mercedes’s butt. Sometimes she would flinch in an odd way and Mercedes would giggle and slap at her arm.

“Calm down,” Mercedes said, fighting to stop from laughing. 

“I’m just hugging you,” said Byleth absently. 

“You’re trying to touch my bum and I’ll have none of it. What if Elise walked in here?” Mercedes said. 

“I’m pretty sure that girl doesn’t even see me. She’s obsessed with being the next Mercedes. She asked me to help do her hair like yours for the Heron Cup, did I tell you that?” Byleth said as she wiggled her head, settling into a spot against Mercedes’s leg. 

“You’ve told me that story about three times now, not including that.” Mercedes patted the side of Byleth’s head dismissively. “You can’t act like you haven’t had a student obsessed with you.” 

Byleth sat up. “Maybe. Dearest, I’ve got a confession to make,” she said pulling a serious face. Her dark green eyes trembled and it sent a small panic through Mercedes’s heart. 

“What?” 

“There was this one student who was absolutely obsessed with me and the worst part is I sort of fucked her. Thinking about doing it again in face, but it’s fine because we’re married.”

Mercedes’s mouth went wide and she slapped a hand over her face. “Goddess! Stop,” she said slapping at Byleth playfully. “You’re the worst.” 

Byleth grappled Mercedes’s hands down and pinned her against the desk to crawl over her body and kiss her on the neck. 

“Byleth, you know how I am!”

“Once you get started it’s hard to stop. I was counting on it,” Byleth said. 

“We’re in my office!” 

“You know who this desk belonged to, this won’t be the first action it’s seen,” Byleth said.

“Mer-Mercedes…” There was a shout from the hallway and Mercedes raised up to see Bernadetta standing in the doorway. She seemingly hadn’t seen them fully yet as she was crying, her hands plastered to her face. 

Byleth bounded up off of Mercedes and was at the door. “Bernadetta? What happened?” She asked. 

Bernadetta stumbled deeper into the infirmary. “Professor? Oh, I didn’t expect you to be here,” she said rubbing her sleeves across her eyes. She was still dressed in her sleep clothes, which was not something that Mercedes had ever known her to do. 

“What’s going on?” Asked Mercedes. 

“It’s nothing really, I just fell, Lady Edelgard said I should come get checked. I was sleeping and I woke up in the floor with no recollection of falling,” Bernadetta explained as she played with her fingers. 

Byleth stepped closer to Bernadetta and glanced back at Mercedes. “Then why are you crying? Why are you still dressed for sleep?” She asked. 

“I-I don’t know.” 

“It may have been five years, but you’re still a terrible liar,” said Byleth with her hands on her hips. 

“Ah, it’s a secret! I can’t tell you. I just need to get checked and go back to my room, okay?” 

Mercedes moved in closer to Bernadetta, pulling out her magnifying glass to look at Bernadetta’s eyes more closely. “Follow my finger with your eyes,” she asked. 

Bernadetta did this. 

“The fall happened this morning? Is there any head pain? Is your vision blurred?” 

“N-no.” 

“You say you don’t remember falling? Do you fell sore anywhere?” Asked Mercedes. 

“My arm a little.” 

Byleth watched all of this intently. She did love seeing her wife work. 

Mercedes leaned in and sniffed the air around Bernadetta. She let out a sigh. “Albinea Winter Root. It’s a burned in a ritual spell to sedate patients. I doubt that you had surgery recently since I would have been the one to do it here at the Monastery and the smell would only last a few hours. It’s faint, but I think someone used it on you. Would Hubert have seen if…” 

“He’s out. I don’t know where,” Bernadetta said.

There was a commotion in the hall, Byleth must have heard it first because she was already headed to the door when Mercedes noticed. Mercedes’s father-in-law stepped into the room, his form filling the doorway. There were six Knights of Seiros at his back, crowding into the area outside the door. 

Mercedes knew enough about him to sense something was very wrong. “What is it?” 

Jeralt rubbed the back of his head. “I hate to ruin your morning like this,” he started. 

“Out with it, Dad.” 

Bernadetta moved off to the side, her body trembling more now. 

Jeralt glanced to Bernadetta and then back at Byleth and Mercedes. “A child has gone missing on the school grounds. We’re trying to keep there from being a panic, but I wanted to make sure no one came by here acting suspicious,” Jeralt said. 

Mercedes shrugged. “I don’t see many children up here, but there was one this morning. She was the most darling thing, I think I saw them headed down there.” 

“They? Who was with them?” Asked Bernadetta. 

“A younger redhead. She looked vaguely familiar,” Mercedes said. 

Jeralt eyed his daughter. “You have your sword?” He asked. 

Byleth shrugged. “I don’t,” she said stepping up and grabbing her father’s side arm short sword. “I could probably handle this with my bare hands. What are we doing?” 

Mercedes went to the wall as if she were going to get one of her bows, but then thought the better of it. Jeralt led them out into the hallway, but she chided Bernadetta to make her stay behind. The guards followed with them as they began the search of the hallway.

Jeralt and Byleth took the forward position, pressing their backs into the walls at the sides of the doors and glancing around into the room to make sure that no one was lying in wait. They made their way toward the library and then doubled back, but before they could reach the door where Mercedes was she could hear crying. 

“Now, now, it’s just a bit of light and a poof of magic,” came the familiar voice of Hanneman. He gave a gruff chuckle as Mercedes looked around into his office to see the redhead holding a baby over the Crest Analyzer that Hanneman used in his identification work, some time ago she had stood at the very machine. It didn’t make sense that they would be looking for this child and seemingly someone was just getting its crest checked. It was a fairly normal practice testing a child’s crest. 

Something about the way the redhead was holding the baby made her take pause. It looked like she had never handled a small child before and the baby looked very awkward and uncomfortable with her. 

“Hanneman, what’s going on here?” Mercedes asked. 

The redhead turned, her face scrunching up into a forced smile. “Oh, I think I remember you. We were students here together. How have you been?” 

Mercedes froze. This girl definitely looked familiar, but she couldn’t place it. And there was something wrong with how she moved, how she smiled. It was like she was trying too hard to be human. 

Purple light erupted from the floor under the Crest Analyzer displaying a jumbled mass of what looked like shapes, triangles pointing out from a central point, something that looked vaguely like vines on a candle. Hanneman edged forward, wiping his glasses against his sleeve and then placing them on. “Could it be? A new crest! Wait? No.” 

She could hear Jeralt and Byleth filing in behind her and she stepped forward. “Excuse me, miss, the guards had some questions for you…” Mercedes was abruptly cut off when the red head shouted, slinging an arm in Mercedes’s direction. 

A large fireball erupted from the redhead’s hand and sliced through the air headed right for Mercedes. On instinct she brought her arms up and blocked, her natural resistance eating most of it though it did singe her clothes and send her stumbling back until Byleth caught her around the waist.

Jeralt wasted no time, stepping past them and grasping the hilt of his sword to ready it for the draw. 

“What’s the meaning of all this! There’s a baby and all of this delicate equipment in here!” Hanneman reached out like he meant to move for the redhead or the baby, and in a flash something silvery and dark flashed the redhead’s side. Mercedes could barely see the blade jab into the crestologist’s stomach before it was pulled back out. Hanneman sank to his knees, blood blossoming out of the wound. 

“Hanneman!” Byleth shouted. 

“Professor Hanneman!” Mercedes went to rush in and help him, but the redhead’s attention turned to her causing her to freeze.

“Whoopsie,” the assailant said before she burst into cackling laugh. “I suppose this ruse has run its course—this weak form has served its purpose.”She said grabbing at her hair and pulling the buns free of until the tangles fell down around her cheeks. 

The kind looking girl with her hair up in buns was replaced by a mauve-skinned woman with orange hair. Her modest clothes changed into a bodysuit that left little to the imagination and either had three scorpion like tails attached to it or it was made to fit someone who did. She brought one of her tails down and held the baby up for the prehensile tail to wrap around it and lift it away to free up her hand. 

Jeralt edged forward, his scabbard made a small snap as he popped the sword free, just letting his thumb rest on the back of the hilt. 

“If you want a whole world of trouble harm that baby, her mother has the might to make your existence a living hell,” Jeralt said. 

Mercedes had seen so many babies around the school in the last several weeks and months, their parents bought them for all manner of blessings as this was the thousand year anniversary of their religion. This one was mostly hidden from sight and the tail kept readjusting and moving while holding it probably to keep it from being easy to predict where the child might be, but also to lull the child’s fears by rocking it. 

Byleth dropped into a squat as if she were stretching her legs, the borrowed short sword drawn back until it was up next to her head, poised to swing. “Monica? That’s who you…pretended to be. I hardly recognized you not eating or whispering in the back of my lectures—it’s no matter, I’ll cut you to ribbons. Dad, get the baby.” 

In a flash of motion she lunged past Mercedes, her boots pounding the wooden floor. She charged in, running low right for faux-Monica. At the last moment she broke to the side, flipping up into the air to perch on the desk causing a stack of neatly arranged books to topple over.

One of the three tails slammed to the floor where Byleth would have been, smashing through into the floor and shattering the board. 

Mercedes, remembering herself as the fog of the initial shock of things cleared, cast Physic to stabilize Hanneman. The surge of magic energy seemed to work its way out from her center and leave through her fingertips. She could see it rain down around Hanneman, but he didn’t move. 

“Monica? The name disgusts me,” she brought the tail back up into a resting position. “My true name is Kronya. It’ll be of no consequence when you’re all corpses!” 

Byleth stared at the tail that had designated her as its target and then looked to the one holding the baby and the free one. “How are you controlling those things? Where did you even keep them? Were they in your butt?” 

Jeralt drew his blade, swinging in a wide overhead arc that Kronya blocked with her weapon. “Damn hot headed kid, what are you doing?” 

“They don’t come from my butt!” Kronya snarled, striking out with one tail despite the fact that Byleth was clearly out of range. 

“Baiting her out!” Byleth wrapped her arm the tail, pinning it down with her elbow and then twirling so that she coiled it around her body once. She yanked hard, drawing Kronya off balance and causing her to stumble forward into a headbutt. 

The baby was screaming from all of the movement now.

Kronya slashed out with her blade, Byleth deflected it, stepping out of range of a tail swipe only to swing right for Kronya’s neck. It wasn’t a feint this time, it was meant to be a kill strike. After years Mercedes knew the difference. When Kronya ducked out of the way, her body dropping lower left one of their prehensile tails erect. Byleth cut clean through it, severing it so that it fell to the floor. 

Swinging her arms wildly, Kronya backed up, her screams echoed down the hall. It wouldn’t be long now before more people streamed into the room. The more people there were, the less her chance of escape, but that posed a different threat. 

“Are you crazy!” Jeralt screamed. 

“No. I guarantee she won’t drop that baby. Why else would she bring it to the Crest Analyzer? She knew something about its bloodline,” Byleth said. 

“Do you know whose baby that is?” Jeralt asked.

Byleth kept her eyes trained on Kronya, looking for an opening in the blind swipes and parries at nothing. “My apologies, Dad. Let me just consult my big Encyclopedia of babies…”

The child was so far away and moving constantly that Mercedes was having difficulty seeing it very well. It was also screaming and not dressed in anything that would be a dead giveaway. The fact that Hanneman was laying nearby bleeding out was a definite distraction. Her healing had slowed the effects of his wound, but he would still expire shortly if nothing were done. There was too much going on in the small room for her to study any one thing and her wife did as she often had and focused on only the things she could do with brute force in these situations. 

The one thing she was reliably certain of was that the child had white hair and then it dawned on her. Mercedes and Byleth had been unable to speak to most of their old friends. In some cases they hadn’t seen them since they graduated. This was especially true of the Class of 1180. They hadn’t even gotten to meet the Imperial Princess, Edelgard’s daughter. 

Mercedes couldn’t escape the notion that this baby was very much like Edelgard in some ways, even through the motion it made swaying back and forth above Kronya’s head the pale skin and white blue eyes were somehow still clear. 

“It’s Edelgard’s,” Mercedes muttered. 

“What?” Byleth turned to look at her, shock written all over her face and time seemed to crawl to a snail’s pace. 

Kronya moved in, her pain or anger now manageable enough that she could fight through them. She poised her tail up, rearing it back to strike Byleth right in the face when screams broke the air. 

“Put her down you-you monster!” Bernadetta stomped into the room, her bare feet losing traction as she raced into the room. She dropped to one knee, her nightdress fluttering up around her and drew back the heavy string of a bow. Mercedes recognized it as one from the wall of her office. There had been a quiver and arrows nearby, though she wondered how a barely used bow might fair here and she hoped that it wasn’t brittle with age. 

One. Two. Three. Four. 

Arrows slammed into Kronya, pinning one of her two remaining tails to the wall while one arrow hit her leg and the other two her abdomen. She shrieked, grabbing at the arrow buried in her stomach. The pain caused her to unfurl her final tail and drop the baby. 

Jeralt let his sword fall to the floor and dove under the baby so that it fell into his hands. He landed hard on his stomach with his arms stretched out in front of him to protect the child. 

Mercedes held her hands up at chest level, her body centered on Kronya and released a volley for fireballs that ripped through the air, heating the room before they went out in a flash of light. Kronya was blown flying backward through the air and sailed out of stained glass window destroying the little pattern of colorful circles. 

Hanneman was Mercedes’s top priority now, she rushed to his side to feel for a pulse. Jeralt extended his arms up to hand the baby to Bernadetta so that he could more easily get up.

“Is he going to be okay?” Jeralt asked. 

‘I don’t know, his pulse is faint—I just…” Mercedes trailed off as she fought with the clothes that covered Hanneman’s wound. She needed to see where it was, how deep it had gone, and if there was any discoloration that might indicate magic or something more sinister. 

“Bitch dropped her dagger,” Byleth said scooping the weapon up. “Be a shame if someone didn’t return it to her.” 

She peered out the window after Kronya. “She’s trying to get away,” Byleth bounded onto the roof outside of Hanneman’s room. “Get back here!” 

Jeralt retrieved his weapons and went for the door, there was a crowd outside, plus the knights he had with him. “Someone has to find Manuela and quick,” he jogged off around the corner.

Something magical had definitely happened to the wound, there were dark veins extending out from the slit in his skin which would have been a sure sign of poison if it hadn’t been only a few minutes. At best she could staunch the bleeding, but she didn’t know what this magic was designed to do or how even it could work so fast from just contact. 

“Crests…” Hanneman managed. At first Mercedes wondered what he was saying. “The child’s crests…” 

Mercedes looked up at Bernadetta holding the baby tight and now that she was back in the arms of someone she presumably knew she was as happy as could be, like the last several minutes hadn’t happened. 

* * *

* * *

Byleth’s boots shattered some of the roofing tiles as she raced along the narrow passage formed by the building between the wall of Hanneman’s room and the West Wing corridor. She gained significant ground on the wounded Kronya easily enough because Kronya spent a bit of her time struggling to tug the arrows from her body and the injuries sustained in the fight back there. 

Another ceramic tile exploded underfoot, Gran was going to have her head…not really, but she would be very not pleased with her being up here after being told all the time as a child not to run on the roof. 

“Hey, we didn’t mean for you to go,” Byleth said. “You forgot this.” She brought the dagger up, tossing it over so that she held it by the blade. It was still wet with Hanneman’s blood. When there was no reply Byleth flung the knife at her, it ripped through the air finding it’s mark in Kronya’s shoulder. 

Kronya crumpled to the roof, rollover so that she was face down with the dagger still in her back. 

Byleth caught up to her. “A thank you would be nice,” she said before taking the tip of her boot and pushing against side of the hilt of the dagger, causing it to rock against the inside of Kronya’s body. 

Kronya cried out, her body jerking and spasming in pain. 

“I know. We’re supposed to show mercy, but you tried to kill my friend, shot my wife with a fireball and stole another friend’s baby. Maybe mercy is wasted on you?” Byleth hauled her up only to punch her in the face. Kronya tumbled to the woof, barely managing to get up onto her hands and knees. 

“You want me…to beg for your forgiveness?” Kronya laughed. “Child of the Fell Star—the Ashen Demon, you’re the worst of them. You stand by why that wretched Rhea benefits with what she took from us. How do you think you got here,” Kronya burst out laughing. 

“Okay, I’m kicking your ass off this roof,” Byleth said.

In a brilliant flash of purple light a man appeared at Kronya’s side. He had skin the color of fresh ash and eyes that were little more than just a white abyss. In the split second that he was there Byleth caught a glimpse of his ornate armor with plumes of red crowning the breastplate. He looked at Byleth, grimaced and then vanished into thin air taking Kronya with him. 

* * *

* * *

“Lord Thales, it is an honor, truly.” 

“Every second that I am not playing my part at in the festivities, every second that I fail to make preparations for what must come, every second that I waste cleaning up your mistakes is another second we do not have to correct the hinderance that our plans have fallen under,” Thales’s hadn’t spoken to Kryona directly often, though she had been around him all her life. 

“It seems like you wasted several just trying to make your point there,” Kronya snapped. Though he was revered it wasn’t in her to let his verbosity off of the hook. The Seven were a bit too proud of their legacy, especially considering that their people were forced into the sewers of their formerly glorious home to mostly cower in a world of darkness and artificial light. 

“Do not mistake your mission for importance, I only didn’t leave you because you have valuable information and because leaving them a body to pick over would no doubt alert that insufferable Rhea who she is actually dealing with. We’ve done well to leave her toiling with endless rebellions and heretics…” 

“You haven’t even heard the information that I’ve gathered. It cost me dearly,” Kronya said, reaching back to touch the stub where one of her tails used to be. 

“Fine, girl, what did you find?” He asked. 

“That baby is everything we’ve ever needed and more, you were wrong about her Crest though,” said Kronya. 

“She didn’t inherit the her mother’s second crest?” Thales asked. 

“She did.” 

“Finally, a more perfect specimen could not be asked for. We can steal the girl away and raise her for the sole purpose of decimating that damnable Seiros Church and culling the land for our reawakening.” 

“You didn’t let me finish, the child has a third crest,” Kronya said. 

“Third?” 

Kronya nodded. “Presumably from the father, and here’s the most interesting part, I only saw it briefly before those disgusting simpletons ganged up on me, but it was unmistakeable as the Crest of House Blaiddyd.” 


	5. Thank You For the Venom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, something of a different kind is happening here. I've used some characters from games other than Three Houses. These characters aren't going to be the same exact ones from their own game and are, instead, characters with adjusted backstories and origins rolled into the setting of Fódlan so that they make sense. The two here are the first of many, but there will be other surprises like this to come. I hope that the readership familiar with these characters in their own games appreciates them and that the ones who aren't familiar or who joined the fandom with Three Houses come to appreciate what I'm doing with them here. 
> 
> The characters will be given ample introduction and explained, so you won't need to have knowledge of them from before as they aren't the same versions of those characters.

Professor Dorothea Arnault stood outside of the door of the third floor chambers that belonged to the Archbishop herself. The chamber door was closed, though there were dulled words making their way through the thick wooden walls. This was the first time that they had ever come up to the third floor of the administrative building. This area generally was out of bounds for students. 

That was precisely why it was odd that Elise and Camilla von Nohr had been summoned by their House’s Professor. Though Dorothea wasn’t the only person standing in the hallway. Captain Jeralt and Seiros Sitri Eisner stood silently on the opposite side of the door. 

Dorothea seemed to glide across the floor toward them, her maroon dress fluttering only slightly as she moved. Before she could speak, Camilla stepped in front of her younger sister. 

“You summoned us, Professor?” Camilla asked, giving a proper curtsy, even going as far as to pull the edges of her skirt out with her hands and tuck her chin to her chest. She was taller than Dorothea by a hair at least and she had long, thick purple hair that hung down her back in a sort of devil-may-care style. Her eyes were violet, a long standing symbol of the blood of the House of Nohr, and she had a soft mothering demeanor that seemed in opposition to her posturing. 

“Yes, Camilla. I suspected that you would want to be here with your sister,” Dorothea started. “Mercedes has requested your help, though before I allow you in I must ask that you not share anything that you see or hear inside of this room.” 

Elise stepped out from behind Camilla. She was considerably smaller, being the youngest student currently enrolled in the Officer’s Academy. Her hair was ash blonde and done up in two long rolled pigtails that har a purple streak dyed into it. It was adorned with black bows. Her clothes were the standard uniform of a student, with a small silver rose pin fixed to the breast pocket.

“I fully understand, Professor,” Elise said with a small chuckle. “I’ll do everything in my power to help.”

Dorothea nodded. “Good, right this way,” she said opening the door to the room. 

The moment the room was opened all of the talking inside ceased. Dorothea held the door open so that Elise could enter. Camilla went to follow after her, but Jeralt caught her at the shoulder. “You really should wait out here with us,” he said.

“It’ll be okay, Camilla,” Elise said. “Really.” 

Camilla glanced up at Jeralt, her expression hardening for a moment before she smiled. “Certainly, Captain,” she said finally. 

The Archbishop’s bedchamber was larger than most of the dormitories that Elise had seen the inside of. The bed was situated in the center of the room and someone was laying there though Elise didn’t see their face because of how they were positioned. 

Around the room were several others, some that she recognized and others that she didn’t. A distraught Manuela, Seteth, and Mercedes. There was a blonde woman holding an adorable baby girl and in another corner of the room were a dark haired man with a haunting demeanor. 

The blonde woman with the baby moved forward and she recognized the tusk-like crown that adorned her head. Elise dropped to one knee, lowering her head. 

“Empress Edelgard—I-I had no idea that I would be in your presence,” Elise said. 

Edelgard touched stepped forward, touching Elise on the shoulder. “It really isn’t necessary Lady Nohr. I’ve heard a lot about you and I am familiar with your family’s reputation. You father, Lord Garon, was quite the ally to the throne. I know that he passed some time ago, but I know he would find comfort that you’ve done your family proud,” Edelgard said as the baby grasped at her hair. 

“What’s happening here?” Elise looked over to the bed to see Hanneman, the old crestologist laying in the bed, his skin almost blue. She clambered over the floor, giving no care for proper behavior and plucked his arm off the side of the bed to hold it. “Still warm,” she said. “How long ago was he exposed.” 

The black haired man looked to Mercedes. “You were correct Mercedes, the girl really does know her stuff,” he said. 

Mercedes sighed. “You spoke of a type of dark magic that was naturally occurring,” she said. “You told me about wounds inflicted by it once and claimed that they resembled something written about five years ago.”

Elise nodded. “The incident where that Death Knight guy was running around? I remember reading descriptions in the old journals—is this the same thing?” 

“Not exactly,” Mercedes said. “Look, brought Hubert in here, he’s one of the Imperial Throne’s foremost experts on dark magic, but he doesn’t know this sort, your family does. What do we do here?” 

Elise froze, her face a clear expression of someone lost in thought. “Take fennel, lamb’s crest, and old soap. Pound the herbs into a powder and make a paste mixed with egg whites and the ash of a tree that flowers in winter. Pack that paste in around the wound. It won’t reverse the poison, but it will slow.” 

“How do we reverse it?” Asked Edelgard. 

“Do you have the weapon that stabbed him?” Asked Elise. 

Mercedes shook her head. 

“No, because your hot headed wife threw the only clue we had into the back of that-that woman who stabbed my husband,” Manuela yelled. 

Seteth grabbed her around the shoulders, holding her back. 

“Tell me girl, why do we need the weapon?” Asked Hubert.

“It’s the poison. The metal itself is cursed somehow. It’s just a property of the metal. There were weapons like it that those working for House Nohr, but we’d have no way to be sure that they were the same kind of metal. I’m not even sure this remedy will work…” 

Hubert strolled forward, hands in the pockets of his jacket. “At this juncture the only way forward that we have is to trust the girl’s instinct. We must recover the weapon, for Hanneman’s sake and for our future endeavors. A way to combat this poison would be a serious blow to this enemy.” 

“Why are you always talking like you’re at war. Everything is a war with you!” Manuela shouted. 

Hubert turned to her and spoke with a flourish of his hand. “Because I see the world for what it is: a battlefield swarming with enemies and potential enemies.”

The air in the room grew seemed electric. Elise felt that the argument would reach far greater heights before it were quelled if someone didn’t intervene soon. Then Seteth stepped into the center of the room and touched Elise on the shoulder. “Perhaps it would be best if the planning of this operation were carried elsewhere,” he suggested. 

* * *

* * *

It was Flayn who was out in front of the group, walking and twirling with her skirt in hand so that it flared out from side to side like the dancing girls from the western shores of Dagda where the sailors came in from their long stints at sea. It probably wasn’t intentional on her part. As far as Annette could tell she had never left Fódlan’s shores, neither had Annette, but she had read about them and she had seen a recreation in a market that she and Felix had traveled to. 

Her recent, most happy memories were filled with times with Felix and they were lovely, but they had been on the road almost since leaving the Officer’s Academy. For too long she had been without the company of others that she truly had any connection too. 

Wander’s relationships were piecemeal with other experiences had with similar people over the years filling in the gaps in true knowledge of the other person. All the while she and Felix had become close to a degree where she had to ask herself if it were even healthy for a man and woman who were married. It was too good, the way she felt with him. 

Was there really even a her anymore? Had she lost herself. 

She had avoided Mercedes because of these questions. If anyone was going to have any idea of how much she had changed it was her. 

Ingrid lifted an apple from a produce cart, tossing it onto her shoulder to let it roll down into her palm expertly. She let out a small laugh. “Flayn, let’s not do that.” 

Flayn had stopped at a liquor seller and was examining a bottle. It was the very last thing she needed. 

“Maybe we shouldn’t have let her drink all of those Pegasus horns,” Annette said.

Petra pointed a finger as is trying to remember when she turned her head to look. The colorful beads lining some of her hair clanged together like chimes. “Oh, is that the drink of ice that was blue?” 

“You’re thinking of the Galeforce,” Ingrid said. “The Pegasus Horns were just juiced oranges and the liquid from fermented and distilled cereal grains,” she said. 

“Oh,” Petra said as she stared at Flayn and continued forward. “Well, I am thankful that you are inviting me this morning.” 

“We’re glad you could come,” Annetta said. “We didn’t get to do things like this back then, you know.” 

Ingrid shrugged. “The school was only right to frown upon the idea of us going out and getting drunk in the town. It could reflect badly on the Academy.” 

“Right,” Petra said. “And now we are drinking—can drink as much as we want.”

“Not as much as you want or you end up like—Flayn!” Ingrid’s feet caught on each other as she began to dash off to keep Flayn from paying for more liquor. She managed to keep herself from fully tripping and instead stumbled over to the market cart. 

“Oh, hello Ingrid,” Flayn said. “Would you like a bottle too?” 

“Flayn,” Ingrid said. “Sir, please don’t sell her anymore.” She wrapped an arm around Flayn’s shoulders, pulling the girl’s thin frame away from market stall. “You’re welcome to keep the coin—I’ll pay you back later,” she said the last part to Flayn, pressing her face close to hers. 

They were all a little wobbly and drunk. Annette wasn’t even aware of how bad off she was until she rushed to keep up with Petra as they both moved join Ingrid and Flayn. It seemed that Petra had been affected the least by the alcohol, though she kept fiddling with a necklace she wore. 

“Rhea?” Flayn’s arm flew up, she was pointing to an outside street, past the market and the populated part of the city. “There’s Lady Rhea!” 

Her words were loud enough that some people glanced over at her. Ingrid pushed her arm down, but not before Annette traced the line from Flayn’s finger to the sulking figure with a hood pulled up over her green hair. It did look suspiciously like Rhea. 

“That does look like Rhea,” Annette said. 

She edged forward, turning sideways to squeeze through the crowds. The market thoroughfare was bursting at the seams with people on their pilgrimage. In the year that she had lived here and on any visit that she had made it had never been like this. Annette had to push through some people to get to the alley where she had seen Rhea. 

Off of the main street was a completely different story: abandoned stalls that had collapsed on themselves lined the desolate street one over from the market. No people cut through this way and the hustle and bustle of the marketplace seemed to be damed off from this street. 

Scorch marks marred the wall and there was a building cracked at the corner to the point it looked like it could collapse at any moment. These were signs that more than just age had brought this on. Someone had attacked here, inside of the city walls. The knights and the monastery were so good about repelling that kind of thing, but it had happened and no request for help had been sent to the kingdom, at least not one she had heard about. 

She wondered if Dimitri knew of this or if the Empire or Alliance leaders. Even at their most daring bandits wouldn’t target this place. Annette peered around the corner where she could have sworn that she saw the figure go. She checked behind herself before striking off after her. 

“Where are you going?” Asked Ingrid. 

The others broke through the membrane at the edge of the market crowds with Petra and Ingrid keeping Flayn in front of them and for good reason. 

Annette shushed her, holding a finger to her closed lips. “Over here.” She motioned with her head for the others to follow and they did. The window to the building was blown out and there was very little light getting through, but they could see Rhea standing in the center of the room, her hands resting in front of her lap. 

She had removed the hood already, but also wasn’t wearing her ornate headdress or robes. Her clothes were plain and dark, with a hooded cloak draped over the shoulders. 

Footsteps on the wooden floor of the old building alerted Annette that someone else was coming. An imposing person stepped into view, though they could hardly be seen at first except for in silhouette because of the glow of something on her their back. 

“Is this the place?” The voice was weighty with a feminine huskiness to it. Thunderstrike Cassandra. From what Annette knew, if there was any knight that Rhea was going to bring for protection it was her. 

“Yes.” Rhea stooped and ran her fingers along the rough rock of the floor. “This is the place I was born and conceived.” 

“I had always thought you hailed from Enbarr or…” Catherine started. 

“I spent much of my childhood there and in another place near here, but this area was much different back then.” 

Catherine furrowed her brow, the confusion written all over her face. “Do you come here often?” 

Rhea shook her head. 

“But why now?” 

“The new Millennium brings possibility. Change is crowning over the horizon for Fódlan. It only feels right to return to the place where it my journey began,” Rhea said. 

“Do you want to be alone?” Asked Catherine. 

Rhea turned and they were forced to duck out of the window to avoid detection, but she must have dismissed Catherine as the knight was walking toward a door that sat somewhere through the darkness at the far side of the room. 

When Rhea was alone for several seconds she knelt down and went under cloak to produce a bundle done up with twine. She unwrapped this to reveal a word. Annette didn’t recognize it, but she could tell by the aged yellowish color that it was some sort of Hero’s relic.

The blade was segmented, broken down into little slats, but it seemed like it could reform or come together somehow. That must have been the power of its Crest. Rhea clutched the blade close, hugging it like a lost loved one. 

“I’m sorry…mother. Twelve times I have tried and twelve failures are all that I have for my efforts—I had hoped that by now…” Rhea collapsed into a heap with the sword sprawled out beneath her form and wept. 

“The Creator’s Sword,” Petra whispered. 

“You know it?” Annette asked, ducking under the window to cover her voice. She couldn’t see what crest that the sword was tied to as the stone seemed to be missing from the hilt. 

Petra nodded. “When we were having school we saved it from thieves.” 

“Lady Rhea seems very…attached to that Hero’s Relic,” said Ingrid. 

“We should go. Let’s leave her to this before we’re to be spying,” Flayn said. “Come, Lady Rhea hates to be watched like this and…

“Flayn’s right, this seems like a private moment,” Ingrid said. 

The four of them stayed crouched low, following the wall along the front of the building until they cross an alleyway. When they finally felt safe enough to stand up they stopped in a small alcove where they were partially hidden from view, though it seemed to be a stop made entirely because they were following Ingrid. 

“What was that relic back there?” Ingrid asked. 

“Lady Rhea was saying it was the Creator Sword,” Petra said.

“I’ve never heard of a Creator Sword,” said Annette. “And did you notice when she was taking it out that there was a spot where the crest stone usually would be, it was empty.” 

“It all seems very long ago.” Petra poised her hand against her chin, her face scrunched up in thoughts of an event that she probably hadn’t considered in some years.

Flayn is silent to the point that Annette kept glancing over at her; her lack of speaking seemed to spread to them all. It was Ingrid who finally said something again. “If there’s a Hero Relic that we need to research we’re in the right place.” 

“Man, I forgot how much I had missed the Garreg Mach library,” said Annette, her body almost trembling with excitement. 

“We really, really should be getting back,” Flayn said. “Eithle will be missing me.” 


	6. A Memory of Flames

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this took a bit of time and it is much longer than I meant to make it. I really wanted this chapter to end in a specific place, but the longer I wrote it the longer it took for me to get to that place. The next one should come much faster as we're over the hump now.

It was unusual for Rhea to vanish without telling him anything like this. He made the knights search every inch of the school in as short a time as he could and when he couldn’t find her or Catherine he assumed the two of them must have gone off together. He now stood in the front of an assembled crowd made up of former students and current alike with the burden of choosing what to do falling on his shoulders. 

Hands clasped behind his back he paced back and forth, then again Rhea often did things unilaterally. It seemed increasingly possible that he would be the one making a choice without her today. That typically wasn’t his way, but the occasion called for it. One of their staff and a man he considered a friend lay dying slowly and would pass without action. 

His sister, Rhea, was sick. He knew she hadn’t truly been well since their mother was killed and she had resolved herself to various schemes and plans to see their mother restored. Whenever she choose to do anything that was always the first consideration. Seteth wasn’t built that way. 

“What would you have me do in this situation?” He asked turning his gaze to meet Edelgard’s. 

“Allow me to act—with support from the Knights and the Church,” Edelgard’s voice boomed. “The Empire and the Church go very far back, but there is more than just my child to consider here. These people attacked a beloved member of your staff and an attack on the Monastery is an attack on all of Fódlan.” 

The girl was gifted as an orator. She had, even in her time as a student, been known to give rousing speeches at a moments notice. 

“What does allowing you to act look like? Letting the Empire run wreck-shop through the countryside without oversight while they march under Church banners?” Seteth asked. 

The crowd behind Edelgard erupted into a fierce of chorus murmurs. Seteth scanned the crowd trying to get a read on what they were thinking. Were they against his inaction or did they find it scandalous that Edelgard would dare suggest that she be given control of Church of Seiros forces? There were outliers within the room, people who’s expressions Seteth couldn’t make sense of or flat out couldn’t read. 

Hubert looked almost as he had remembered the boy, stern faced and angry, but that was his face and there was little he could do about it. Mercedes, who could be said to be taken with romanticism of an idea in the classical sense of the word seemed almost too calm. Then there was Dimitri, he looked gaunt and entirely changed from earlier in the day when Seteth had spotted him. Was he ill? His skin was speckled with sweat and his hair was a mess despite his best efforts as smoothing it back. 

“It looks like a combined effort. Allow me to work with the Kingdom and Alliance troops who are here. I do not have a full contingent with me and for good reason,” Edelgard said.

Hilda Goneril touched Edelgard’s shoulder. “The Alliance is at my command currently and we’ll meet Edelgard’s call to arms. Hanneman was our House Professor—and us axe-sisters have to stick together,” Hilda shot Edelgard a glance. 

Seteth opened his mouth to speak, but it was as if Hilda throwing herself into this conflict had moved something in Claude. He sauntered forward with a haphazard smile that seemed to cover up a deeper concern. 

“It wouldn’t be a celebration for the Almyran without kicking someone’s ass. The small force we have here would be happy to help—you might not even need to let Edelgard borrow Knights,” Claude said. 

“For all we know that could be what they want…a distraction that leaves the Monastery more vulnerable,” Hubert said. 

Seteth felt the corners of his mouth pull into a slight smile. “It’s nice to see such cooperation between the surrounding nations, but there’s a lot at stake here for the monastery too. We might need to discuss this in a smaller council.” 

Out of the corner of his eye there was a swift motion, something hard and ancient slammed against the stone floor of the audience chamber. Seteth glanced over to see Dimitri, his hair messily slicked back with sweat and his eyes burning with an intense heat as he banged his the butt of the relic spear, Areadbhar, on the ground as if to silence the chamber. Sometimes it was hard for Seteth to look at the weapons, if the humans had known that they were made of the bones and hearts of his family and friends would they have flaunted them so readily? Would they have coveted them? 

“We do not have time for this,” Dimitri said. “These people had a hand in taking your sister years ago, they attacked this school and its students on many occasions and now they have returned and stolen…they’ve tried to take your child.” He turned his finger on Seteth and Edelgard in turn, the latter seemed shaken by the accusation. 

“You would do well to quell your passion, Dimitri,” Edelgard said. 

There was a strange tension in the air as the two royals glared at each other across the room, an intensity made more awkward by the small child clinging to Edelgard’s neck. 

“Do you now seek to sit here in these high towers and discuss the options while those who would have murdered a professor run free to do whatever they may please. To hell with that!” Dimitri’s voice seemed to shake the stone walls of the room. 

“Edelgard is right, kid. Cooler heads will prevail in these things and if we rush into this without a plan we might find ourselves in a worse situation,” Jeralt said. 

From somewhere in the room there was a hardy chuckle that dripped with sarcasm. “For once I agree with the boar,” Felix said. “A man’s life hangs in the balance and if we strike before the iron’s had time to cool we will catch them unaware—is it not true that Professor Byleth injured one of these bastards?” 

“I’ll do more than injure her when I catch up with her, mark my words,” Byleth said from somewhere in the crowd. 

“You’re university staff, you’ll make no move unless I or Lady Rhea deem it necessary,” Seteth said. 

“It’s funny that you think you can stop me.” 

Seteth felt his finger nails bite into the palms of his hands as he tightened them into fists. “We will see what the _Ashen Demon_ fears when we summon her mother in here,” Seteth said. 

Mercedes grabbed for Byleth’s hand and at the same time ran her fingers through her wife’s hair, that was enough to stop the whole thing from progressing further. 

“Sir Seteth, uh, sir,” a tanned skinned maiden with bright pink hair done up in two puffy ponytails at the sides of her head stepped forward with her hand raised as if she were hailing the teacher in a classroom. 

“What is it Miss Mae?” Seteth asked. 

“What if some of us volunteered? We’re not exactly Church affiliated, but it would show cooperation and it wouldn’t leave the actual church any less protected than normal,” she said.

His hand went to his chin on instinct as he mulled it over. “When you say ‘us’, you’re speaking of the students of course?” 

Mae nodded, stepping out of line. “We just take a few people from each house, I heard a rumor that you already asked Elise from the Black Eagles House for help with something. Well, we’re all required a monthly mission right?” 

Another student spoke up, a tall blonde girl with her uniform pristinely kept and an aura of nobility about her. “This school is our home for a time, for better or worse and it’s our duty to see that it is protected from threats as both citizens of Fódlan and students!” 

“Real nice trying to steal my thunder there, Clair,” said Mae. “Why don’t you go flutter those lashes somewhere else!” 

“I don’t remember needing permission from the rabble to speak.” 

“Enough, Clair!” Another girl’s voice boomed emanating from within the small pack of Blue Lions gathered just behind Clair. 

Seteth was frankly shocked that it had taken her this long to speak up. A young woman who was of a slender build broke free of the crowd, her hair was a dark blue and hang long a straight down her back until near the very bottom where it was gathered into a braid with a simple tie. She wore a variation on the uniform with her own little bits of embellishment on it: a black and blue embroidered vest and a cloak depicting the Crest of Naga.

Lucina Elice Lowell was from a noble house with in the Kingdom, but she was probably one of the most respected students currently attending the Officers Academy. She had hardly failed to demonstrate why that privilege was afforded to her. 

“There was a truth said earlier, we call this school home and we have a duty to protect it. If you and Professor Ubert—Ashe—would allow it I would like to volunteer to go along with any students who can think they are ready,” said Lucina. 

Ashe had been off to one side of the chambers this whole time, he hardly voiced his opinion when things like this were going on. “I would leave the choice up to Master Seteth if I’m to be honest.” 

“Who would oversee this impromptu mission?” Seteth asked. 

Mercedes chimed in. “With your permission I would like to step in. My…Professor Byleth will accompany me of course, but I will keep her on a short leash. Surely I have shown myself to be trustworthy.”

There was a burst of conversation which Seteth attempted to wait out. He was eventually forced to hold a hand up to quell them. 

“I will allow this plan to go forward, but you haven’t got the luxury of time to prepare as you say—“ 

Seteth was cut off by Jeralt. “Permission to accompany the students--“

“—Permission denied. We need our Knight Captain here,” Seteth said. “Miss Mercedes, you’re in command. Any students who would like to lend their assistance listen to Mercedes for instruction.”

Mercedes clasped her hands against her chest. “Oh! Okay then. Everyone who is interested should meet at the courtyard outside of the House Chambers before first light tomorrow.”

There was a moment of confusion where people shuffled back and forth in the chamber. Slowly the crowd began to drain through the door and filter down the stairs toward the first floor. 

Some stragglers hung behind. Dimitri paced side to side across the back of the room, spear clenched between his hands. Hilda and Claude spoke in whispers near the back of the room. Edelgard walked up to Seteth and glanced around to see if anyone was within earshot who shouldn’t hear what she had to say. 

“Do you think it’s wise to let a school physician lead such a large operation?” Edelgard said as she jerked her head away from Greta’s attempts to grab her hair. 

“There was a group of pirates terrorizing costal towns within the Kingdom. This was three years back, before Ashe signed on to the position when Mercedes was filling the position, albeit temporarily. She and part of her class were on the way back from another mission, though they weren’t traveling with a full contingent. With nine students and no knight support she flattened the bandits with very few resources or any serious injuries,” Seteth said. 

He sighed. “It should also stand to reason that anyone who can wrangle Byleth Eisner is probably capable of anything,” he added. 

Edelgard shook her head, sighing. “My apologies, I trust your judgement. Still, I should go prepare…” 

“If the first part of your statement is indeed true I would ask that you stay behind, Empress Edelgard,” said Seteth. “It isn’t a matter of you being the Empress.” His traced lines around the room with his eyes, trying to make sure that his words wouldn’t be heard. “I would just hate to see another child lose her mother to this senselessness. It reminds me of too much of what happened to Flayn…and I.” 

Edelgard nodded. “A legitimate concern. And I am sure that the knights here could use an extra pair of hands.”

* * *

* * *

They were let back in with the solemn chime of the monastery bells. It took whispers from several guards before they were believed which was far more scrutiny than there seemed to have been in the proceeding days. When they had first arrived days ago it had been Sylvain who commented on the ease at which people were permitted entry to Garreg Mach, now they seemed to be taking his warnings into consideration. 

Shadows covered most of the campus now with the late day sun unable to make it over most of the walls. Ingrid wandered the grounds for a few minutes by herself after Flayn, Petra, Annette peeled off to head back to their quarters and prepare the banquet that was to be held every night. 

Perhaps something had changed? The pilgrims attending the Millennium Celebration had been emptied out of the main campus into the fields between the town and the school where their camps laid, but on the previous night they had been allowed to come and go freely. Guards waited on either side of the door to the dormitories, guards pacing every walkway. With each step it put her more and more on edge. What had happened here during the short hours that they had been in the town?

She climbed to the rooftop area of the new dormitories, the ones where they had been staying and looked out over the wall. Cooking fires from the pilgrim camps were blazing in the field and illuminating nearby objects. Ingrid could see kids dashing, chasing each other, weaving around the fire in wide breadths so as to avoid accidents. 

It must have looked like this, she thought, when the ancient knights stood on the ramparts and stared down at the besieging armies. This was the kind of sight that the Knight Varduant must have seen standing atop his master’s keep, what Greta must have seen at Arianrhod. 

“Oh, hey. The beautiful knight has returned.” A woman said from somewhere nearby, her voice broke a little at the end and she chuckled, though it seemed to be more out of nervous necessity than humor. 

Ingrid turned to find a woman dressed in a servant’s clothes sitting on the other end of the patio. A servant had almost unparalleled access to the campus, but they usually didn’t venture into the dormitories. As her eyes were still adjusting to the waining light, it took her a moment to realize there was something familiar about her. 

“My apologies, if I know you I can’t place your face.” 

“Oh? I’ll admit to be rather bland and hard to notice. I’m Felicia, Flayn’s lady-in-waiting.” That triggered a series of memories to pass through her mind of her seeing Felicia in the background of the rare moments where she saw Dedue and Flayn. Though they were in the service of the crown the knights were rarely in the same place at the same time. Dedue spent most of his time in the castle, Ingrid and Sylvain spent much of their time in the Gautier territory while Felix and Annette were typically on the road together. 

“I guess you would have no way of knowing this, but in my head I’ve always thought of you as the beautiful knight—that’s probably a bit awkward to tell a stranger, forget I said anything,” Felicia added. 

Ingrid’s mood softened and she felt a heat in her face. “That’s really sweet of you. Though these days there’s far less knighting to do. Thankfully we live in peaceful times.” 

The servant laughed another nervous laugh. “I would have said the same thing a day ago, but then that Professor might die and I heard they’re looking for the people who did it…”

“What professor?” Ingrid said. 

There were a lot of professors and she knew them all, some of them far more closely than others. Mercedes and Ashe had been her classmates and though Byleth wasn’t her instructor, the woman seemed to be loved by the whole school. 

“Hanneman. Someone stole a baby or tried to and he got stabbed in the fight. I was in that room a while ago cleaning and he didn’t look as bad as he had earlier, but the I overheard Professor Dorothea talking to his wife. It seems like they’re just staving off the inevitable at this point.” 

“Have you seen my husband?” Asked Ingrid. 

“Not since the other day.” 

Someone had to know what was going on and how to make sense of this. She stood up from the table. “I’m really sorry to run out so impolitely like this, but it sounds like I need to see what’s been going on here,” Ingrid said. 

“It was nice getting to actually speak to you for once,” Ingrid added. 

The servant woman pulled at one of her long fuchsia twin-tails “Y-you too…”

Ingrid made her way down into the upper floor of the dormitories in a hurry, taking the steps two at a time until she reached the large wooden door that led to the interior. Hubert, the minister of the Adrestian Imperial Household was headed up the hall, his back was to her, but she could tell it was him by the gait and the choice in fashion. 

Though Hubert had never been rude to her personally, he had a sinister reputation and they rarely had a reason to interact. She took a few steps and the floor creaked beneath her boots as she was about to call out to him. Hubert glanced over his shoulder. There was something guarded and deliberate about his stance. 

“Lady Galatea,” Hubert rotated around and gave a truncated bow. 

“Hubert…” Most people called her Lady Gautier now, though she hadn’t taken her husbands last name. Maybe Hubert had forgotten, but it was more likely that he kept up with these sort of things. 

“I just returned from town and I’ve been told that there was an attack on Professor Hanneman today?” Ingrid said. 

Hubert’s tone didn’t change. “It was most unfortunate. This morning Emperor Edelgard’s child was stolen and in the fight to get Princess Greta safely the kidnapper stabbed Hanneman.” 

Ingrid shivered, it was as if her veins ran cold. “Hanneman is—will he be okay?” 

“It’s hard to say, the weapon used in the attack was carried off by the attacker, but it seems to be a blade whose properties cause a type of atrophy,” Hubert said. “Have you spoken to Sir Gautier today? I extended an invitation to some members of their Kingdom entourage, a sort of meeting of the the minds so that the Kingdom and Empire can clear some of the rather unfortunate eventualities of our pasts away.” 

“Oh?” Ingrid said. 

“Given the foe we now face and the implications of what they are it is more important than ever,” Hubert said. He started away, headed to where ever he had been going previously. 

“Who was the foe? Who would attack Edelgard and the Church?” Asked Ingrid. 

Hubert stopped. “A former student by the name of Monica,” he said. “At least, that is the official report on the matter.”

* * *

* * *

With all of the construction on campus in the past five years some of the old shortcuts didn’t work anymore. Hilda and Claude weaved through countless pilgrims and students in an effort to make it back to the dormitories that had been set up for them. As Claude fumbled with the key to his door, Hilda stepped in between him and the passageway, pressing her back into the wall and looking up at him. 

“Do you think we have time before dinner?” Hilda asked. 

“Time for what?” Claude said.

She tugged at a tendril of her long pink hair, running her fists down the length of it as if she were attempting to straighten it. “You to help me work through something? Don’t look at me like that, it’s not dirty.” 

Claude managed to get the door unlocked; the moment that Hilda heard the distinct click she reached back and turned the knob with her hand. They stumbled into the room together, Hilda catching him around the waist to steady herself. The door was shut with a quick push, almost an after thought. 

“H-Hilda, you’re grabbing my butt pretty hard,” Claude said. 

“Sorry.” 

“You’ve got to tell me what set you off in that meeting with Seteth?” Claude asked. 

Hilda dropped to sit on Claude’s bed. There were some books set in a stack on the night table, she picked them up and rummaged through them as she spoke. “If I tell you and it’s too far out there then you’re going to think I’m crazy.” 

“Come on, Hilda. The anticipation is killing me.” Claude crawled up onto the bed next to her. 

“It’s just something you said about Dimitri,” Hilda said. “It’s got me thinking.” 

“And?” Claude asked. 

“So few months back there was an outbreak of this plague in the Kingdom, we sent medicine and the merchants of the Alliance ate the costs and helped move things. Ignatz actually was one of the ones tasked with organizing things—“

Claude cut her off. “Ignatz! How’s that guy doing?” 

“He tried to court Marianne, I told her to have higher standards. Anyway, don’t interrupt me.”

“Sorry.” 

“I mean you tell me to spill this big all encompassing theory and then you talk over me.” 

“You chastising is taking longer than my interruption at this point.” 

Hilda fiddled with her hands in her lap. “It’s just that once I say this it will be out there between us. At best I’m just crazy, at worst I could be stripped of titles for even insinuating this.” 

Claude wrapped his arms around her waist. “You think I would do that to you?” 

“I don’t know. I spent five years without you, Claude and I only knew you for a year when that happened,” Hilda said. 

He was kissing the side of her face, his nose and his lips brushing against her skin so lightly that at first he questioned if they had been there. He took the bottom of her earlobe between his lips and gave it a little tug. The soreness of their time together last night was just beginning to set in and it just reminded her of what she wanted of him. 

“And in five years I have never felt like I do around you,” Claude said. “It’s all you, Hilda,” he whispered. 

The pieces of the whole thing were still coming into focus in her head. Everything that had happened five years ago at the school and everything happening now, she replayed old memories trying to be sure of her thesis. 

“Let me put your mind at ease,” Claude said. He slid off of the bed onto his knees and positioned himself between Hilda’s legs. “Is this okay?”

Hilda looked down at him and he kissed her thigh, his fingers tracing lines along the sensitive skin along her inner leg. She nodded enthusiastically. Maybe there wasn’t time, she didn’t know, but she couldn’t turn him down. 

Claude went to it, plunging his head under her skirt and reaching around to grab her ass and pull her deeper into his mouth. Hilda tried to talk, tried to sort through the thoughts she was mulling over until she finally stammered out the first thing she could. 

“Maybe we should get ready for dinner?” 

Claude raised his head up enough to speak, but was still under Hilda’s skirt and muffled by the fabric. “If it’s okay with you, I’d like to have my desert first.” 

Hilda had done her duty as a responsible party, if they were late or caught she couldn’t be blamed for what happened. She edged toward the side of the bed, her hips rocking up and down, undulating, trying to entice Claude into lowering his head back between her legs. As he suckled and licked tension mounted inside of her like a great elastic band was being stretched. She moaned and kicked her legs against Claude. 

He would pause to ask questions or comment on how good she tasted. Hilda could only manage to respond in short sounds. She was incapable of speech that made use of multiple syllables and vowels. 

The tension finally snapped and it was as if whatever had given out inside of her held a tidal wave of sensation. She grabbed at Claude’s head, raking her fingers through his dark hair as her moans became little more than stammered declarations of pleasure. When she was full aware of herself again he was on the bed next to her, stroking her hair and offering her a drink from a canteen. 

“It’s water,” he said. 

“What was that?” Hilda asked before gulping the water down. 

“What?” 

“I don’t really know what to say, but maybe we really do need to talk about what’s going on between us?” Hilda stopped herself short of saying that she was certain he loved her. It made her uneasy in a way she wasn’t sure how to explain. 

Claude sat up beside her. “We can, but you seemed pretty sure of something a few minutes ago.”

“Oh, yeah,” Hilda said. “The plague in the Kingdom—when Ignatz came back I remember him writing my brother about it. He said the King was absent and that the King’s men had requested the aid.” 

“You mean Dimitri?” Asked Claude. 

“Yeah. I remember there being more to it than that because there was supposedly some kind of new trade agreement being looked at by Edelgard and Dimitri, which isn’t that out of the ordinary, but the timing is the thing that seems peculiar to me now,” said Hilda. 

“The timing?” Claude asked. 

“How old would you say Princess Greta is?”

Claude shrugged. “How am I supposed to know that, cut her open and count her rings?”

Hilda’s shoulder slumped a little. “I know you think I’m all post-coital happiness now, but there’s only so much of your bullshit I can take, Claude.”

“Sorry, just don’t slam your thighs against my ears again. I’m sure it would deafen me this time.” 

“That baby is Dimitri’s.” Hilda said. “He was there to sign a peace agreement when it was born. You don’t think a woman as smart as Edelgard would plan around that kind of thing?”

“Maybe it slipped her mind?” Claude said. 

“How? She was carrying a tiny, gross human in her belly while it kicked and moved.”

“It might have been out of necessity. Didn’t you drag us down to Fódlan’s throat to repel an invasion even though you said you were menstruating; you did that out of necessity,” Claude said. 

“Yeah, and because I fight better when I’m angry. A period is much different than a baby. Edelgard would have planned for it. And okay, what about the name?” 

“Greta?” 

“Greta of House Blaiddyd is one of those stories they tell young girls about how to be honorable knights or whatever. She was left to oversee what was considered women’s work in Arianrhod by her older brother and the heir apparent to the throne. When the city was attacked she overcame all of the naysayers and kept there from being any loss of life and gave the order to rescue soldiers trapped outside of the walls,” said Hilda. 

Claude shrugged. “You think that Edelgard named her daughter after this hero from the Kingdom because she secretly had Dimitri’s child.” 

“I mean, you saw how mad he just got and you have to wonder why. Our old professor got stabbed and we’re not banging on the floors and yelling at Seteth. Also, you told me that you saw them sneaking off from dinner the other night,” said Hilda. 

“We sneaked off from dinner the other night…” Claude said. 

“Never mind.” 

“I’m not trying to make fun of your idea, but the implication here is that Edelgard and Dimitri have been carrying on a secret relationship for who knows how long and, yeah, he does have a thing for her, but she doesn’t seem to share the sentiment,” Claude said. 

“People could say the same about us from the outside,” said Hilda. 

“Your eyes soften when you look at me, it’s not the same thing. Besides, I’m pretty sure that Edelgard is gay.” 

“She’s got a baby.” 

“Maybe she had Hubert put it in there or maybe it was splash-back during a wild Imperial Orgy. I don’t know how to respond to this kind of thing,” Claude said. 

Something must have occurred to Claude in the middle of the last sentence that caused his expression to change. Hilda pushed herself up onto her elbow. “What is it?” She asked. 

“They found the kidnapper in Hanneman’s office where that Crest Viewer is. What if they were trying to see which Crest the baby had?” Claude said.

“Because there would be a good chance that the Crest would belong to the father. How would you feel about helping me to corner Dimitri at dinner away from the crowds and asking him pointblank about this?” Hilda asked. 

“I think I don’t want to get stabbed in the face by a glowing spear,” said Claude. 

“I’ll be doing the questioning.” 

Claude shrugged. “I know this could turn out badly, like really badly, but I’ve never been one to turn down a good scheme.” 

* * *

* * *

Dorothea made her way up to the top floor of the main school building where Rhea’s private quarters were. The area was usually heavily guarded, more out of a sense of giving the Archbishop her privacy than actually trying to keep her safe. Still, students were unlikely to be allowed up there and that’s why she knew she would find Seteth out on the roof overlooking the campus grounds. 

She gathered her skirt in her hands to keep it from dragging the ground as she turned to head out to where he stood. The sky was a dark gray blue color now, the sun had dipped well behind the walls and the mountains leaving a silver glow on the horizon. 

“Dinner is soon. Are you going to be coming?” Dorothea asked. 

Seteth exhaled. “It looks like I will be hosting tonight’s meal, so I will be along soon enough,” he said. 

“Rhea never returned?” Dorothea asked. 

“She always does this. Being the Archbishop means that you lose the luxury of galavanting around the countryside, especially during the Millennium festival. I just don’t,” Seteth cut himself off as Dorothea pressed against his back. She wrapped her arms around him, hugging him close. 

“We can’t really know what she’s going through. I know it’s pretty unfair that she isn’t here, but try to understand that the weight of the world is on her shoulders,” said Dorothea.

“A weight that she has deposited firmly in my lap,” Seteth said. 

He threaded his fingers through hers, grasping her hand and bringing it up to kiss the back of it. “I am sorry. There has been a number of things on my mind. I fear that with all of the planning and preparation we haven’t had much time together.” 

Dorothea sighed. “We’re both adults. We have careers. I know you’re busy.” 

“You have been taking on extra work to assist me here, especially in looking after Hanneman and Manuela.”

“They’re my colleagues too and the people here are kind of like family. We have to do what we can,” she said. Mentioning family made her think of Seteth’s only family, his little sister. The two of them had been distance since she had left the Monastery. “Did you get a chance to see your niece, yet?”

“I fear that Flayn might be more upset with me than she would like to admit,” Seteth said. 

Dorothea sighed. “It can be difficult to sort things out. She’s young and in love and…well, you know how intelligent she is. She comes off as naïve, but Flayn is extremely perceptive.”

Seteth sighed, squeezing Dorothea’s hand and massaging her palm with his thumb. “There is a complicated history between my sister and I and our family. It is not my place to talk about it fully, Flayn values her privacy and I have come to respect that.” 

He was a good brother, Dorothea could tell. Seteth had cared for Flayn for so long without the help of their parents and it was easy to see that there was something beneath the surface with them. She had never really pushed the subject; it wasn’t her place. 

When he was ready to speak Dorothea would listen and if the chance were to arise she would be the best sister-in-law to Flayn too. Other than Flayn’s stint on the Black Eagles in school the two of them had really never spent time together. She had always found Flayn to be pleasant though. 

Seteth turned, taking Dorothea’s wrists in-between his thumbs and fingers and holding them down at her sides. He searched her eyes in a way that, despite everything at stake at the moment made her bite her lip to hide a smile. 

“I’m sorry, Dorothea,” he said. 

“For what?” 

“I have done little but complain about the hand which life has dealt me, but I doubt you made your way out here to listen to me bang on about things you’re going through too,” said Seteth. 

Dorothea kissed him on the side of his mouth. “Nonsense. You’re my companion. What more are we here for if we’re not going to support one another through rough times as well as revel in the good?” 

He brushed her thick, dark hair away from her face, his hand surprisingly soft, but there was a firm confidence to his movement. “I must admit that it is awkward sharing myself with another person it has been quite some time since I’ve engaged in an emotional intimacy that surpasses that of friends.” 

Seteth was always so chaste with her, always the gentlemen, though there were times when she found his old fashioned sensibilities to be a bit of an obstacle. Dorothea would give him the time that he needed to feel comfortable enough to connect the dots for her. He lifted her hand to his face; his lips felt warm as they touched her knuckles. It was hard not to smile. 

There was a noise behind them in the hallway, it was Seteth whose movement made her perk up and listen and then she turned to see Shamir walking to stand in the doorway that led back inside. Her arms were folded and her dark blue hair was hanging down, partially obscuring one side of her face. 

“We’ve got a bit of a problem,” Shamir said. 

“What’s the matter Professor Nevrand?” Asked Seteth, stepping around to Dorothea’s side, her hand still in his. 

Shamir crossed the small catwalk out to the open area where Seteth and Dorothea waited, she was constantly looking off to her sides, checking the rooftops around them for a sign of danger. 

“I know that there’s always a concern about security with these events, but there are more people here than usual and I think that there’s a good chance that we might have enemies inside the keep impersonating guards. They would have had to sneak in using the pilgrimage as cover,” said Shamir. 

“What prompted this suspicion?” Asked Seteth. 

“Some bodies were discovered that belong to guards. They were found within the keep itself, so it’s safe to assume who ever killed them is still inside,” Shamir said. 

Seteth took a step to get around Dorothea, his hands trailing through hers as they separated. “Perhaps you should lead with that information the next time you have something like this to deliver. We need to increase the patrols and—“

Shamir cut him off. “We’re at maximum security as it is. There’s almost nothing more that we could do at this point. The worrying thing is that if these people can change forms or imitate others. That is a thing we’ve seen in the past.” 

“Then we have to be vigilant,” Dorothea said. “We need to keep an eye out for any hard changes in mood or behavior and need tp ask others to do the same.” 

There was a silence between them for a moment. “Limit the contact of any guards that are not as well known to Rhea and sensitive areas of the monastery so that we can better discern whether or not they have changed,” Seteth said. “Since we do not understand the means by which they disguise themselves we will have to be extra careful around anyone,” he said. 

Dorothea felt a wave of discomfort radiate out of Seteth’s words. A look passed between herself, him, and Shamir. 

Shamir cradled her chin in one hand. “There’s something else: the original Monica von Ochs possessed a minor Crest of Macuil, but after she returned from being taken she seemed to be unable to use it, perhaps that is the thing that this method cannot copy: a crest,” Shamir said. 

“Then we should use that to our advantage,” said Dorothea. 

* * *

* * *

The Monastery beds had always been different, Dedue hadn’t expected that to change. He had grown up sleeping on woolen beds bolstered by draw straw. It had been firm enough to apply ample support, but just right for a good night’s sleep. He didn’t understand the nobility of Fódlan and their obsession with the feathered beds that they called ‘fine’.

He lay with his arms folded under him, clutching a small pillow to his bare chest to provide him enough room to look down at the book that he had borrowed from the library. The air was filled with the fragrance of an exotic soap, he could hear Flayn in the bathroom finishing up and was almost able to predict to the second when she would step out, clutching the towel to her chest. 

She was radiant, the water had been hot enough that steam rose from her pale skin. For a moment she was frozen in the doorway of their small, private bathroom. An easy smile took over her features and she plodded a little closer to him. Dedue peeked over at her, but it was hard to be used to just leering. Somehow it still seemed rude.

He often caught himself staring anyway. Though Flayn downplayed it the difference between her when they were at the school and her now was tremendous. People who hadn’t seen her since their time at the academy often didn’t recognize her. She was slightly taller, her hair longer with the curls more thick and dramatic. She had the hips of a woman who had been with child and they both had the kind of chronic fatigue that came from raising one. 

Dedue heard the crumple of fabric and glanced toward Flayn to see the towel falling into a pile around her feet. 

“How was your shower?” He asked. 

“Simply delightful, thank you for asking.” 

Flayn crawled onto the bed on her hands and knees and then up Dedue’s back, resting her head between his shoulder blades so that her green hair hung down into his face. Above his waist, where there was no sheet there were skin-to-skin, the way a man and wife should be. 

“It has been a while since I have seen you like…this,” Dedue said as she wrapped her arms around his neck and leaned around to kiss the side of his face.

Flayn let out a small, melodic laugh. “Am I usually not this…fun?” She asked, obviously trying to feign sadness. 

“No, that’s not it. It’s—“ Dedue was cut off but Flayn shifting so that her cheek was pressed into the back of his neck. Her skin was still warm and damp from the bath, though he felt as if each tiny rise of the goose pimples on her naked body were vividly apparent to him. “It’s just with what happened with the baby earlier and all…” 

She slid off his back, falling into the bed next to him hard enough that the sheets sprung up around her to engulf her petite form. “Eithle is right over there, sleeping safe and sound—why did you move her out of Felicia’s room—she arrived here earlier specifically to care for her.” 

“It’s nothing,” Dedue said.

“You’re not telling me something.” Her green eyes narrowed slightly, her brow furrowed in concern. She wrapped her hand around the side of his face, trailing her palm across his stubble so that it tugged at the roots under his skin. 

“It might be nothing,” he added. 

“Hmm, you seem more interested in that dusty old book than me, husband,” Flayn said. 

Dedue looked at her and it made him pause for a moment. The Flayn he had gone to school with was inches shorter than this. In five years time she looked more like her aunt than she did like the woman that had introduced herself as Seteth’s sister. 

“I could never stand to ignore you for some book, my saint.”

Flayn brought her hand up, her fingers raking across her nipple as her face took on a more serious expression. Her eyes were fixed on his now. “Say my name please. Say the name that only you can use.” 

“Cethleann.” He let his body sink toward hers, his lips brushing her shoulder. 

“Yes.” 

“We can’t tonight,” Dedue said. “As much as I would like to.” 

“There was a time when even with Eithle in the room that you would have pulled me up astride your lap and—I dare not say more because I can already feel myself growing restless.” 

He had wanted to not concern her because he knew how she fixated on these things. “Cethleann, there was an incident earlier on the school grounds. Someone stole the Emperor’s child and had to be chased down by Professor Byleth. It was by good fortune and the honed skills of those involved that the baby was not taken. I remember what you told me of after the War of Heroes and how people hunted you and your mother for your special…heritage and the woman who stole the baby today was the same one who reportedly had a hand in what happened when you were taken.” 

He watched her eyes swell with tears as he spoke. “Why would you say these things? Surely this is—this cannot be.” She rolled over on her side, attempting to bury her face in the pillows. 

“Flayn,” Dedue said wrapping his arms around her and pulling her to him.

“Do not call me that!” 

“I am sorry.” 

“This existence is a curse and because of actions I had no choice in a thousand years ago I am damned; my child is damned. Will she wander the world for centuries afraid to use her real name? Afraid to trust anyone?” 

Dedue tried embracing her to fight the onset of this fit. He tried to kiss her, but when his face was close to his he heard her whisper. 

“What have we done bringing her into this world?” 

“Our daughter is safe. There’s been no implication that there’s a threat to her, I was just being cautious,” said Dedue. 

Flayn lay on her side, unresponsive. 

“Dinner time is almost here and it is important that we be there. It’s important that we be there. Tomorrow troops are being dispatched to take care of the would be kidnappers and it might be discussed more.” 

“You’re not going to leave me here with Eithle, are you?” Flayn asked in a small voice. 

“No.” On instinct he wrapped his arms around clutching her at the stomach and she, as if it were part of some elaborately choreographed assembly process, tucked her face into the space under his chin and against his neck. 

“It seems like things will be handled by the school in this matter and my place is here with you and Eithle,” Dedue said. 

* * *

* * *

The tables at dinner were scant, as if the pilgrims who had attended were left over meat from what had been picked from a bone. With Rhea absent and Manuela choosing to stay by her husband’s side much of the staff seemed to have been in disarray. There was no opening prayer and the wait staff chose to let people come up to a bar lined with food to be served instead of present the meals to them. 

It wasn’t until Sister Seiros Sitri Eisner shuffled her way to the front of the room to speak that any kind of order fell over things. There was a timelessness about her, a sort of sparkle that even her mother, Rhea seemed to lack. Her easy smile seemed a bit more genuine, her gait a little more personable, her eyes didn’t betray any underlying emotion that she was trying to keep hidden. 

“Some of you may know who I am, others may not. My name is Seiros Sitri Eisner, I’m a Sister here at the Church of Seiros and it seems I have some big shoes to fill for my namesake as well as for my mother tonight. You see, I am the daughter of the Archbishop and though she wanted to be here with you tonight a pressing matter has kept her from her duty,” she said. 

“Though this duty isn’t one that she takes lightly. Her life’s mission is the people of Fódlan and the covenant of the Sothis. In that way everything that she has done has been service of seeing to the future peace of this land and it made her very happy to see you all here to share in this celebration of the Church’s first thousand years. The first of many, we hope.”

“I would like to ask that you all remember to be thankful for each other and this food and as we eat keep a prayer in your hearts for Hanneman von Essar. He is a Professor here who was gravely wounded. If you see soldiers around campus, if you think things seem a little on edge there is good reason. Remain calm and remember that Sothis is always watching over us.” 

Mercedes let out a small squeal of joy from her spot near the front. “That was a beautiful speech, Mom.” 

There was an eruption of laughter from the staff table around Mercedes, much to her noticeable confusion. That laughter spread throughout the room until her cheeks burned red with embarrassment. 

* * *

* * *

Dimitri looked considerably calmer than he had earlier. Hilda watched as he interacted with one of the kitchen servants and picked out the different types of meat that he wanted on his plate. He even smiled at them, though it looked to be forced. 

“What’s the next move, Fearless Leader,” Claude asked nudging Hilda in the side of her breast. 

“You hit me right in the tit,” Hilda said, slamming her fist into his own chest. 

Claude doubled over. “Kay, you got me. Sorry.” 

“I don’t know, we go over there and just kind of play it by ear,” Hilda said. 

“In this room full of people?” Asked Claude. 

“It’s a risk, I’ll admit, but think about it…” 

“If we’re in a room full of people there’s less chance he can lash out. If we’re right he’ll want to keep this quiet.” 

Hilda plucked a chilled shrimp off of the line and skillfully ripped the meaty part of it out of the shell of its tail. “The moment that I ask him we’ll know what the truth is. There’s no way that he can keep himself on balance—not with what I have planned. Stay close.” 

Hilda pushed her way through the line, getting as close to Dimitri as she could, his guard was nowhere nearby in this instance and there wasn’t much reason for them to be as most non nobles had been left out of this dinner and those who hadn’t were to eat last. Hilda though that it seemed a little less than fair. Everyone was equally hungry, but she didn’t make the rules. 

“Dimitri, your kingliness,” Hilda said with a dainty pat on Dimitri’s shoulder. “Would you mind if I had a word with you?”

“Oh, it’s you. Lady Goneril,” Dimitri said. 

Hilda reached up, her perfectly manicured finger catching the bottom of a tendril of Dimitri’s hair and following it down until she was touched his chin. “That’s impersonal. We were classmates and, once upon a time, would have been countrymen.” 

She hoped Claude was watching Edelgard, if she saw this her reaction would be another piece of the puzzle. It would be substantially harder to read Edelgard, Hilda knew. Any emotional outburst by Edelgard, regardless of how justified, would be viewed as a strike against her by the mostly male leadership of the world around them. Part of being Empress had to be complete control over emotions in most instances. 

“I apologize,” Dimitri said. “It has been a…day.” 

“I saw what happened back there and all I can say is that I understand,” Hilda said. 

“You do?” 

Hilda swayed on her feet, stomping hard to catch herself. 

“Are you okay?” Asked Dimitri. 

Hilda fluttered her eyes. “I may be lightheaded, can you walk me back to my seat?” She asked sidling in close to him and throwing an arm around his shoulders. 

“Certainly, milady,” Dimitri said. 

He left his plate alone on the edge of the table and escorted her to a nearby chair where he gingerly helped to situate her in her seat. Then, while he was beat over in front of her she struck. 

“King Dimitri, how is it you haven’t taken a wife?” Hilda asked. 

He froze and looked into her eyes. “I haven’t found the right woman yet.” 

“There must be no shortage of women tripping over themselves to become the next Queen of Faerghus.” 

“It’s more complicated than that.”

“Or maybe you already have found someone?” Hilda asked. 

“Are you asking me to court you Hilda?” 

“Oh, Goddess no. I was talking about your secret relationship and subsequent secret baby with Edelgard. That would make the whole finding a Queen thing pretty difficult.” She watched Claude, who had moved into a position on the other side of Dimitri where he could keep an eye on Edelgard. 

“How did—no. There’s no way you could think that—“

Hilda cut him off. “Don’t try to lie your way out of this. You’re this brilliant tactician and warrior, you’re probably a good leader too, but you’re not a liar.” 

“Who told you this dubious information?” 

“You did. You were acting so rash back at that meeting with Seteth that it was the only logical conclusion, plus the timing of a visit to the Empire along with your reaction here. I mean, you even named the baby Greta…after the hero of Arianrhod,” Hilda said. 

Dimitri paused for a moment, his eyes darted side to side as if he searched their surroundings for an answer. “To think that we would have the time to engage in this charade is laughable.” 

“Then why don’t we go get Edelgard and baby Greta and take a walk over to the Crest Viewer in the main building. I’m sure it will absolve all my doubts—if you’re telling the truth,” Hilda said. 

A wildness flared in Dimitri’s eyes. “What do you plan to do with this information?” 

“Nothing. Well, make Claude pamper me. He doubted me,” Hilda said. “Oh, Claude knows too. But it’s just as game we play—if there’s a secret then we like to know it…or we did back at the Academy.” 

Dimitri’s head sunk. “The story of what we are is only half mine to decide to reveal. We were cautious because, well, because we had to be,” Dimitri said. 

“So you planned to just carry this on as long as you could?” Hilda covertly checked Claude’s facial expression before turning her attention back to Dimitri. 

“There was actually a plan discuss all of this in town with certain select members of the three countries,” Dimitri said. “The plan was not my own, but I think it was in the early stages. Perhaps things need to progress faster?” 

“You might want to cautious with who you tell, not everyone is going to accept this whole thing,” Hilda said. 

He nodded and then Claude came to her side, touching her back. Hilda looked up to see Edelgard standing over where Dimitri had left his food, her eyes searching the medium distance all around them, but making sure to keep returning to the three of them huddled together. Hilda rose with Claude and made her way back to the buffet table and the moment they were a little ways away Edelgard moved in. 

“Of course you didn’t hear all of that. But I told you so.” 

“I could tell just by his expression when you were talking,” Claude said. 

“How long was Edelgard watching us?”

“Hard to tell, she kept moving around the room greeting people and just making small talk, but she was always nearby.” 

Hilda smiled. “Oh you owe me. Big time.” 

“What?” 

“I’m not sure yet, but I’ll think of something.” 

* * *

* * *

Petra had mastered the art of not sticking out too much in a room full of foreigners, she was often the only woman from her homeland in any given place that she went within the Empire and Fódlan. Sometimes she was the only foreigner. 

A part of her that she was determined not to alter though was her style of dress. She had been made to wear the uniform of the Officers Academy before, but tonight she wore a gown made of tan nubuck leather. Decorative beads of a multitude of colors adorned the neckline and her hair was up in a knot with beads dangling from it too. The dress was floor length, which was not a common thing in her homeland, but she was willing to make some compromises. 

She seemed to glide through the room, moving from place to place and just taking in the conversations where she went. It felt daunting to speak to people some of the time. They talked so fast and despite her proficiency with the language she had to listen a little harder than the average person. 

Native speakers didn’t really take that into consideration. 

It wasn’t their fault or even intentional. It was just the way things were. Petra sampled bits of food on her plate, but she wasn’t too interested in eating. Her day drinking in town had done something to her stomach and she feared putting too much foreign food in it might sow the seeds of a disaster. 

“Petra. It’s so lovely to see you again. It’s been too long.” 

Dorothea was off to her side when she turned, arms opened and waiting for a hug. Petra was forced to use one hand while keeping the other on her plate to return the favor. 

“It has been too long,” Petra said. “I had heard you are working here?” 

Dorothea nodded. “It felt like the natural choice. How are things in Brigid?’ 

“Well. There is some difficulty, but I knew I needed to return here for the festival,” Petra said. “We made a promise.” 

“Right?” Dorothea laughed. “I just didn’t think that so many of us would actually be able to keep it, the future seemed decidedly darker back then. I’m glad the tensions have eased to some degree.” 

“We all worked hard at not letting differences between us divide us. I think it shows. In the last several months have I have been taking on more of an active role in ruling.” 

“Is your grandfather…” Dorothea started, but Petra cut her off. 

“He is fine.” 

“Oh. Well, that being said you have gotten to see so much of Fódlan, I would love a chance to come to Brigid and visit. I’ll have to write you about my plans,” Dorothea said. 

Seteth wrapped an arm around Dorothea’s waist, clutching her tight. Petra wasn’t sure if it had been said or mentioned at any point, but it was obvious now that they were together.

“Lady McNairy, how have you been doing?” He asked as he stepped in next to Dorothea. 

“Fine,” Petra replied. 

“Dorothea, there’s a matter I need you to look into regarding one of your students,” he said. 

“I’ll speak to you later, Petra. It’s been a pleasure as always.” 

As Petra watched them make their way through the crowd she spotted Flayn clutching her child to her chest and swaying back and forth in time to the light music. She wondered if Flayn had been watching her brother or if it were just a coincidence. They had bonded some during the day, so she saw no reason not to speak to her. 

“Flayn, is this your Eithle?” 

“This is her,” Flayn said in an airy tone. 

Eithle turned to look at Petra, her little brow furrowing with confusion. 

“May I hold her?” Petra asked reaching out. 

Without even an answer, Eithle crawled her way into Petra’s arms. Her eyes kept wandering down to the spiritual mark beneath Petra’s eye. 

Petra laughed. “You are curious about this?” She pointed to her eye. 

“Yes,” Eithle said. 

“It is a prayer to the forest spirits of my homeland,” Petra looked to Flayn for confirmation that this explanation wasn’t too far. “It is a prayer for—to be keeping me safe.” 

“Safe from what?” Eithle asked. 

“Whatever may come. You are really smart, aren’t you? How old are you?” Asked Petra. 

Eithle held up three stubby fingers near Petra’s face. 

“That’s amazing. Being three is a…huge deal,” Petra said. “She looks so much like you.” Petra glanced over to Flayn.

Eithle hugged Petra’s neck tight as Petra imitated the swaying and rocking motion she had seen Flayn doing. 

“Are you okay?” Asked Petra. 

“I’m just tired is all. Maybe going out like that earlier wasn’t the brightest idea,” Flayn said. 

“I don’t know. I had tremendous fun. It is not often I am included in the things like that,” Petra said. 

“It was nice to have you there. I am kind of sorry that, despite me joining the Black Eagles class for a time, we didn’t get to converse much,” Flayn said. 

“It was a busy time for us all; I’m sure you had a lot on your head…mind, sorry,” Petra said. 

Flayn smiled. “It’s fine, I understood you.” 

“Your brother. Are you having a nice time seeing him again?” 

“I have gotten to talk to him very little,” Flayn’s expression quickly darkened. “Things have been awkward for a while.” 

“My grandfather is the closest family I have, not like a brother, but more like a father?” 

“Seteth has basically been my parent since mother passed. I think I have come to see him as such too.”

The beads of her earrings on one side began to swing roughly, Petra realized to that Eithle was batting at it. She moved to support the little girl’s weight with one arm. “You like my beads?” 

Eithle nodded. 

“Would you like some?” Asked Petra.

She nodded again. 

Petra reached into her hair and unfastened a tendril to release a dangly leather cord filled with orange and apple-green beads. Eithle grabbed the beads away and clutched them to her chest. 

“What do we say?” Asked Flayn. 

“Thank you,” Eithle said. She leaned back, turning to reach for her mother. Flayn reached up, taking her daughter under the arms to lift her back into her arms. Flayn was still smaller than Petra, but it was clear that she had grown a lot since their time at the Academy. Petra couldn’t remember if she had ever known how old Flayn was, but she felt both younger and older than her all at the same time. 

“You are welcome,” Petra said. She caught a glimpse of Seteth across the room, still discussing something with Dorothea, but constantly glancing up at the two of them. 

“Perhaps you should approach your brother,” Petra said suddenly. “I think he is liking to see you.” 

Flayn glanced over her shoulder. “Did he say something to you before?” 

“No. It’s just—he keeps looking this way,” Petra said. 

Leaning in close to Petra, Flayn whispered. “I think that he has a problem with me being like this. In all these years I was his little sister and now I’m a wife, a mother.” The words shook Petra to her core because they were the one thing that she never thought she would hear in this place. They were spoken in her native tongue. She had no idea that Flayn could speak the Brigid language. 

“You don’t think he likes your husband?” Petra asked, speaking in her native language in return. The words flowed from her much easier. There was no need for translation them before a thought left her mouth. 

“I don’t think he hates him, I just think he pictured things a different way and he worries about my safety. He requested was that Dedue and I move here,” she said in Petra’s language with Eithle clinging to her side while balanced on her hip. 

“More to the Monastery,” Petra said, switching back to the Fódlan tongue. “Dedue serves the Kingdom, he could not do such a thing while living here.” 

Flayn sighed. “Exactly,” she said still in the Brigid language. Then she switched to her own native tongue. “It’s just very selfish and he treats me like a small infant or some kind of…little fragile glass statue.” 

“It’s that he wants you here,” Petra said. 

Someone swept past Petra, pulling a wave of air along with them. She glanced up to see Dimitri making his way over toward the head table, where most of the highest ranking nobles were sitting. He stopped next to Edelgard and whispered something to her before leaving. 

“I had better get back to Dedue,” said Flayn. 

Edelgard said something to a person she had been talking to, someone that Petra couldn’t place. Petra had not really spoken to Edelgard yet, but she was sure that there was something serious going on judging by the way that Edelgard marched up to Hubert and handed her daughter off before whispering something to him and leaving. 

* * *

* * *

The old woods were near enough that they could be reached from this newer part of campus with relative ease. They were still inside of the walls, but they were also not a in an area that had developed in all these years. In fact there were ancient buildings that were collapsed in and overgrown with vines. It was so dark that there was a risk that she might trip over the roots of some gnarled tree. 

Edelgard carried a lantern up at shoulder height, trying to cast the largest circle of light out around her and avoid any pitfalls. She didn’t want to yell as she had no idea what or who might be out here.

“Dimitri,” she said, her voice a raspy whisper. 

There was no answer, somewhere off through the woods she could hear the sound of sticks snapping. 

“Dimitri. What was going on back there?” 

The lights of campus faded behind her as she moved deeper into the forest. It was a long while before her lantern found Dimitri standing in a clearing near a small building made of misshapen stones that was half sunken in under a fallen tree. Even inside of the dinning hall the light had been dull, but she could see he was dressed in a simple black button down shirt with blue and gold trim. It was a stark contrast to the kind of finery that he would have usually worn to a function like a dinner. 

As he looked at her she could see the weight in his eyes where tears threatening to break free. She placed the lantern on a splintered tree stump and made her way over to him, removing her gloves as she walked. 

“How could those monsters have returned,” Dimitri asked. “They attacked us here five years ago and then…then they come back to steal your child…our child.” He whispered the last part. 

It was rare for them to even admit it to themselves at times. Greta was the thing that Edelgard was most proud of, yet there was a true risk to her parentage being known. If she and Dimitri were caught having sex it could be written off as carnal pleasure, though there might be some questions about manipulation and loyalty. If they were found to have a child together there might be a question of the whole line of succession to the throne in two countries. It would have been a challenging detail to work out, or it was before she came up with something of a solution. 

“This attack is not without merit. I think they want to” Edelgard trailed off, speaking words that only she could hear and that made no sense to her. “I think this is as good a time as any. Those who tried to steal Greta do so in the hopes they can get back at me.” 

“Get back at you? You mean because you were the one who stopped them from stealing Flayn years ago?” 

Edelgard averted her eyes. 

“What are you not telling me?” Dimitri asked. 

“In a sense I was the one who helped save Flayn, though I was not at that battle below the school—at least not the me you see here,” Edelgard said. 

Dimitri stalked toward her, his figure suddenly seemed larger, the fur atop his cloak and around his collar standing up like a beast’s when its threatened. “What do you mean, El?” 

“The girl you fell in love with, the one who taught you to dance and that you gave this dagger to,” she raised her skirt to reveal the dagger at her thigh, where it had been since she had been crowned, “was a _child_, Dimitri. We were groomed to rule, but we were children planning for a future that we couldn’t possibly shape without compromise.” 

“You keep the dagger close?”

“Do you remember the last thing you said to me before I left Fhirdiad?” She asked. He didn’t answer, watching her as if he were waiting for her to say it. 

“You’ve got to cut a path to the future you wish for,” Edelgard said. “That is what I was determined to do all through the academy. I turned those around me into allies or I prepared to cast them as enemies all to see the world freed from this oppressive lie and when the moment to really strike came a boy came to me and asked me to give him five years to show me who he was and that naïve little girl in me, the one who took that dagger said yes. That’s why Greta is in danger.” 

“What lie were you trying to undo? What path were you planning to cut before you and I,” Dimitri started, but was cut off by her. 

“I am the Flame Emperor,” she said. “I stepped in to distract them before they could harm Flayn or the Professor. I never wanted what they pulled in Remire. Sure there was some awful things I did, but I tried to mitigate it and without my course correction their plans were far more devastating.” 

“What?” 

“After you last saw me I was brought back to the Empire and they did stuff to me, experiments with my blood. The same people who gave Lysithea two crests did that to me, though they hadn’t perfected it. They tried it on my siblings and killed every one of them. You had to notice that the Imperial family suffered losses, you had to realize that my skin was without pallor and my hair had turned white like snow…” Edelgard said stumbling back to the half sunken building where she had left the lantern to lean on the broken wall. 

“You were—how is this possible?” 

“The Flame Emperor was a figure head for something worse and I was determined to use that position to hunt them down from the inside all while seeing my own goals realized. I thought of going to you first, but then you avoided me or were outright in competition with me. I got wrapped up in that and you never once asked why I looked so different. I thought it hadn’t mattered, that you had grown out of whatever it was you felt, but then I remembered the words you said. I was going to cut my own path.”

“There was some indication that there was foul play in Duscur, that it was more than just a simple civilian uprising. I found that your uncle, our uncle, had cut ties with the Church around the same time that the attack happened, right after he took you away. Was I right to believe that he had some hand in my father and step mother’s deaths?” 

Edelgard nodded. “I don’t know the whole thing, the people in charge of the organization are like Tomas, they can change their appearance. I doubt they’re even human.”

“And they could be anyone?” Asked Dimitri. 

“Almost, they can’t imitate crests from what Hubert and I have observed and they have to know the person’s life they’re imitating well enough to fake being them,” Edelgard said. 

“How could you let this happen?” He asked, his voice breaking. “They did all this and stole our child! You have the strongest army on the continent, why did you do nothing to them?” 

“They have a weapon. I have never seen it with my own eyes, but old books write about it raining massive javelins of light from the sky. They can decimate a whole city, so I fear forcing them to use it,” said Edelgard. 

“I see.” 

“I am not an idiot, this much you know to be true. And if I felt they would have resurfaced like this, if I felt that you or Greta were in danger I would have told you. I had planned to take them down and discover the rest quietly and when the time was right I would deliver the heads of those responsible for Duscur to you, impaled on the tip of a spear.” 

Dimitri pressed his body against hers, bracing his hands on either side of her head. When he kissed her it was rough and sloppy, he nearly missed her mouth. His teeth found her lip, nipping her before he grabbed her under the chin and steadied her against him. 

She pulled back, batting his hand away. “What are you—?” 

“I can feel the validity of your words in your kiss. At least, I think.” 

Edelgard grabbed him by the shirt, sweeping him off balance with one foot before taking him fully to the ground under her full weight. The impact surprised him, but he seemed to think back to something she had said earlier. There was a lot for him to sort through. 

“You’re like Lysithea? You have two crests?” 

“Yes, though I have had to keep one of them hidden,” Edelgard said. Her legs were straddling him at the chest now and she held his arms pinned to the ground. Orange light from the lantern sitting on the stump flickered across them. She moved her hand to run her fingers through his hair as she gazed down into his eyes. 

It was as if he realized how close he was to her, he kept glancing up between her legs into the darkness of her skirt. She let go of his wrist and he was running it up and down her thigh, his fingers finding the dagger holster just below her butt and then roaming back down. 

“I know you’re angry with me and I know I lied to you, but I need you to channel that anger into,” she stopped as Dimitri’s fingers found their way into her mouth. She tasted traces of dinner from earlier mixed with a hint of sweat and when he pulled his fingers from her mouth, when he was sure that she would remain quiet, he reached up between her legs, just where they met. 

She felt him fumble against her opening, only a thin layer of fabric keeping them apart. 

“Dimitri,” she said, her heart doing a small flip as just the minor brushes of her sex against his knuckles rippled through her. 

The sound of fabric tearing seemed akin to a tree falling, she spread her legs wider and he delved inside with one finger and with the other hand he held her at the waist, rocking her in time against his chest. Edelgard grasped the neckline of her dress, tugging it away so that her breasts were fully exposed.

“You’re so beautiful,” Dimitri whispered. 

She leaned forward and stuffed her breast into his mouth, causing him to have to reach further to finger her. 

After several seconds of rocking together, her beasts taking turns in his mouth she asked. “Are you hard?” 

“Yes.” 

“Okay. I want you inside of me.” 

The two of them fumbled together, with her reaching back to liberate his cock from the confines of his trousers. Even before that she could feel it nosing at the pants, pushing to break free. 

She planted one knee at his side, rocking her body from side to side as she tried to position herself. She could feel the head of his cock dragging along her butt and leg, her fingers grasping the shaft as she tried to guide it into herself without seeing. He finally slipped inside of her, filling a space that she hadn’t been able to tell was empty only seconds before. 

Their bodies ground together, drenched with sweat and dirt from rolling on the ground. The night air chilled them and the whole forest was still. She couldn’t tell how long they were together like this and he lost track of the number of times he slammed into her after she came the first time. 

He held her hair tight to one side, pulling at her as he arched his back and thrust up into her. She was craned over to the side, cooing and begging him to keep going. Dimitri was incoherent, lost in her as he grunted and growled. It was exactly what she wanted of him, unburdened by a worry of being too rough and perhaps even fueled by passionate anger, he freely gave her the kind of thing she had dreamed about before. 

Their breathing was synchronized for a time and their bodies seemed to be as one. She felt Dimitri tighten up, his grip on her waist and hair reaching a boiling point as his heart quickened and his long, defined strokes turned into short shoves. 

“Let go. Let go.” She whispered over and over and over. Edelgard wanted that slow, warm heat inside of her. She wanted to melt into him. 

He stuttered and she felt it, the jolt of energy from his body as he released himself. She could still feel his heart beating inside of her and in that kind of vivid post coital sensory overload she could smell him and feel the dirt under her knees almost to the point that she felt it would be possible to count them grain by grain. 

“El,” he muttered, touching her forehead. His hand wicking the sweat up into her white hair.

Edelgard had learned to rely on a kind of sixth sense. She felt at her thigh, unsheathing the dagger and holding it at the ready. The wind changed around them and there was something else, something was coming. 

“El, what’s wrong?” Dimitri asked, his hand falling away from her tangled hair. 

Tucking to the side and roll, Edelgard moved to the side and flung the dagger out in between two trees. The dagger found its mark in the chest of a black clad man with his face covered. He was almost invisible in the darkness of the the forest. 

Still short of breath from what had just happened and, frankly, surprised by the current would be assassin, Edelgard managed to rush to the man and pull her dagger free just in time for an arrow to whiz past. It missed her ear narrowly and she dropped the dagger, kicking it sliding back toward Dimitri before grabbing up the axe to swing it into an oncoming attacker’s legs. 

Dimitri scurried onto his knees, fixing his pants in the process. He took the dagger up just in time to block a spear blow with it by bracing his palm against the flat of the blade. He kneed his would be assailant in the stomach and snatched the spear away. In one swift motion he slashed the man across the face with it. 

“Who are they?” Dimitri asked, sliding the dagger into his belt. 

“The men who killed your father and our mother, the same men who experimented on me and my siblings.” Edelgard said as a brawler rushed her, knocking her back into a tree. 

He punched her in shoulder, the claws of the gauntlet cutting into her. Before he could finish her and drive them into her head, she ducked out of the way. The crest flaring to life inside her body granting enough strength to send him flying with a deft punch. 

It was unclear how many there were, the woods writhed with motion. The darkness seemed to flit from place to place. There were foot steps followed by the low, hollow pop of a bowstring. Edelgard dropped against a tree for cover, she could feel the impact of the arrows into the bark nearby. 

In a flash of movement she spun out from behind the tree and swung the axe through the neck of another attacker, she felt the blade catch and rip roughly though the flesh and heard the spray of blood as she jerked the weapon free. 

Dimitri blocked a series of blows from another pair of the masked me, the shaft of his spear clanging against the metal of their swords. Bracing the spear against his right arm, he pulled the dagger up with his left jabbed it into the unguarded neck of one of the men. He twirled aside, grabbing the other swordsman around the shoulders and using him as a human shield to block a volley of arrows.

“I saw that coming!” He said shoving the corpse aside. 

With the end of his spear, he hooked the handle on the lantern that Edelgard had been carrying and lifted it up into the air to fling it off into the trunk of one of the trees past where Edelgard was battling another person with an axe. The lantern burst and rained fire down onto the underbrush, causing it to ignite. 

The sudden light in the woods painted a clearer picture of what they were facing. There weren’t many more and they had approached from deeper into the woods. A gate had existed on this side of campus at one point, but it had been removed due to how much effort it would have taken to man a second smaller keep this from from the center of Garreg Mach. Still, these people were coming from there and they must have entered the grounds somehow. They must have gone unnoticed even after the campus had been cleared out of most of the pilgrims. 

A fire ball spiraled out of the hands of a mage who was dressed in a hook beaked mask and black cloak with a steepled hat. Edelgard blocked the brunt of the attack with her axe, letting her resistances eat the rest. It was clear that these men hadn’t planned on having a hard fight on their hands. They had expected to take the King and Empress without much contest. They thought themselves to be the heroes of who ever they served. 

It was a fool’s endeavor as they by now knew. 

“Betrayer, we’ll never stop hunting you!” The mage yelled. 

A man with a hammer charged Edelgard from her side, before she could react a glistening spear sailed through the air and split his chest open, nailing him to the base of a tree with a hard thud. 

“You won’t be hunting anything, anymore,” Edelgard brought the axe back swung through the side of his chest. He went limp, his body still dangling from her axe. His face mask fell away to reveal his face, frozen in horror. Edelgard stepped on it, crushing it under foot. 

The fire that Dimitri had caused coupled with the number of them that they had killed kept the others from advancing on them, they backed out of the light as if frightened by being revealed. She moved in after them, walking right through the area where the fire still burned. 

“Did you get what you wanted?” Edelgard asked them. “Your destroyer. Your puppet. Your Flame Emperor.” 

The remaining enemy forces weren’t moving, seemingly frozen in fear. 

“They saw us and they know who you are,” Dimitri said. “They can’t be allowed to live.” 

Edelgard glanced back at him, the world around him seemed to glow and she could see the light of the fire reflected in his eyes. “You’re right,” she said. 

Dimitri marched forward, brandishing his spear. “Besides, the dead must have their tribute.” 


	7. INTERLUDE: The Forgotten Crest - 1167 The Brionac Plateau, Western Fódlan

It wasn’t often that Anthiese Celica Lima was allowed to stray far from the abbey grounds. In the last year alone there had been three attempts on her life, quite a feat for a girl orphan girl of the tender age of six. 

The grass here was past her waist and the air felt sticky and wet. There was a strong pungent odor that she couldn’t place with just a hint of sweetness. The sky looked heavy with rain and the clouds seemed to dip down from it until they scraped across the field as a mist. She didn’t know why or how, but she felt that they were on the cusp of rain. Still she didn’t feel that there was any danger here. 

She shrunk back behind Cardinal Velarin, being careful not to brush up against him. She was never to touch them in any unwarranted way and they were careful to take heed of this and chastise her when she ignored the rule. Her whole life this had been drilled into her, it should have been second nature, but it was a constant thought.

There was a larger clearing ahead where the grass wasn’t as tall where a rolling behemoth of a wooden structure sat on six massive wheels. There were chariots and wagons back in the Western Abbey, but nothing like this. Near the rolling building was a woman dressed in an ornate white robe with a midnight blue cloak draped over her shoulders. She was astonishingly beautiful with long light green hair. A beaded circlet encircled her forehead and atop her crown was an intricate gold headdress with dark and light stones adorning the front. No one had bothered to tell her who they were coming to meet, but Anthiese was sure this was Archbishop Rhea of the Central Church. 

It felt oddly appropriate that someone so gorgeous and young could also be the head of the Church. Most of the Cardinals that Anthiese had interacted with and the Abbot who had helped raise her looked like they could have been this woman’s parents. Still this had to be Rhea. There were never drawings or pictures of Rhea in any of the books she read, but that seemed to be Church tradition, something deep down inside of her just knew. 

A group of Central Church Knights were clustered around the woman, the wore cloaks of gold and navy much like hers with the church insignia etched into the front part of the shoulders where it connected to their armor. Their faces were all hidden behind helms save for one man: a blonde with a lined face and his hair trimmed close on the sides. He kept his eyes on the field, watching the tall grass in the distance with such a distrust that it made Anthiese take note. 

Sister Bogan had said that this place was routinely used by the students of the Officers Academy for practicing when someone asked if it were a safe place to meet. Anthiese had questioned, out of turn, what the Officers Academy was, but they only answered her with stern glances before turning away. 

The blond man torched forward, his hands at his belt. His voice was surprisingly soothing and he spoke with a kind of familiarity that felt out of place. “This her?” He looked Anthiese over before squatting down in the grass to be at eye level with her. “She’s no older than my daughter,” he said. 

Rhea seemed to glide forward, her dress flowing around her just out of happenstance, not because the movement of her legs. “Now Jeralt, everyone has to start somewhere. It is said that even the Goddess herself was but a child at one point.” Rhea’s voice seemed so light that it shouldn’t have been audible, but it was still clear. 

Jeralt scratched his head, leaving one hand to rest on his hip. “If you say so.” 

“Velarin. Grissom. It has been quite some time,” Rhea said. 

“Lady Rhea,” Cardinal Velarin said with a bow. 

“We know that there has been less communication between our branches in the past decade or so, but that’s only because of the questionable nature of some discoveries made,” Grissom said. 

Rhea nodded. “You transgressions are forgiven, the world seems to have hit is stride if the histories are to be believed. We all might have become more lax with our duties in these times. I am not immune.” 

“Still, this latest bit of news is of the variety that we had to meet in person to share. There are eyes everywhere, you know?” Said Velarin. 

“Indeed there are,” said Jeralt. 

“Did you bring what we asked?” Grissom said. 

Rhea regarded the massive wooden structure on wheels. “It’s all there, it wasn’t an easy thing to mobilize, you’re lucky that one of the foremost experts on Crests happened to come to us just a few years ago.” 

A slender man dressed in a scholar robes appeared through the crowd of knights, his sideburns were just beginning to gray, but he looked young in the face. His eyes seemed sadder than they had any right to be. He was clean shaven, but wore thin framed glasses. 

“Hanneman,” he introduced himself. 

Cardinal Grissom went to shake his hand, but something about the name gave him a pause. “Hanneman? Von Essar—from the Empire?” 

“I would prefer not to be called that name,” Hanneman said. “We’re to use this on the girl I’m guessing?” He pointed to Anthiese. “We had better start soon.” 

Jeralt shook his head. “I’m still not sure how you got this huge thing to work outside of a building, Professor.” 

“It wasn’t easy, the Crest Viewer in my office was actually the oldest I’ve ever seen intact. Most of them are cobbled together things only working through extremely shoddy methods, but the Archbishop happened to have two on hand that were from the time of the Goddess on hand. They’re much more compact and reliable than anything were are capable of producing today,” Hanneman said. 

“Most of the structure is just to sustain the weight of it all, we’re still not sure how these older ones work, but with any luck Hanneman will figure it out,” Rhea said with a soft smile. 

Everyone went to setting up the Crest Viewer, the walls folded down to become ramps up to the center and there were hooked wooden supports that held up the ceiling. Jeralt directed the knights to encircle the thing pulling ropes and dragging the wood until the raised dais of the Crest Viewer stood in the center of the field. 

As the Cardinals led her past and she followed Rhea up to the top of the platform, Anthiese felt someone touch the top of her head. Jeralt tussled her hair as she past and the Cardinals gasped, but did nothing about it. 

Hanneman met them at the top of the structure and began to dust off the globe in the floor at the center with a clothe. “Whenever you’re ready, Lady Rhea, the test can begin.” 

Rhea took Anthiese’s hands in hers, they were incredibly warm and soft, but for some reason they were trembling. It had been a long time since anyone had touched her hands like that, especially anyone from the church. When she was younger and couldn’t yet bathe herself they had a servant woman from Dusur named Zyah to help her with it and other tasks that she couldn’t perform herself. Shortly after she turned five she had been told that Zyah passed away in her sleep.

“Young Anthiese, we have to perform a test, I am sure that you have done this before.” 

She walked over to the center of the dais and glanced around to Hanneman and then over at where the Cardinals waited. Then she held her hand out over orb set down into the floor.

A beam of yellow light erupted from the floor, passed through her hand and spread out to form a little orb with a sigil inside: a Crest. Hanneman clambered over to Anthiese’s side. 

“An as of yet undiscovered Crest?” He said pushing his glasses up onto his nose. 

Rhea was clenching her robes between her hands. “That is the lost Crest of Mila,” said Rhea. 

Hanneman had pulled a small journal out of one of his pocket, opened it wand was scribbling inside of the matings of the first pages in what seemed like one single motion. His hand moving quick and deliberate, careful not to smudge the ink. 

“I’ve—I’ve never heard that spoken of!” Hanneman said. 

Rhea got down, squatting to Anthiese’s level. “Who are your mother and father, child?” 

“I don’t know,” she replied. 

Rhea’s eyes glistened with tear of remorse. “An orphan,” she said. “Well, you have a family now. I am your family.” 

Jeralt turned, shock playing across his worn face. “You plan to take her back to Garreg Mach?” 

“We can not allow it,” Grissom said.

“What?” Rhea’s eyes narrowed. 

Cardinal Velarin’s shadow darkened the space between Rhea and Anthiese. “She belongs in the Wester Church where she…” 

Jeralt stepped in closer, his hands at his waist where there was a dagger and a sword. But Rhea pushed a hand into his chest as if to hold him back. “Jeralt, please. We came here to see something of interest and what we have found is nothing short of a miracle. If we must take our leave, I do so satisfied.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This probably has gone in a way that most people didn't see it actually going, but things will come back around to making more sense in a few chapters. There's some connecting tissue to what's happening here, I'm just working up to it.


	8. INTERLUDE - 1167, Great Tree Moon - The Rhodos Coast

The saltwater air blew cold as the monks bundled Anthiese tight in a thick blanket to lift her into the wooden boat. Another man with a tan face and grey eyes stood waist deep in the water and held the hull steady for them as they passed her belongings up a chain and piled them in behind her. 

“You’ll want to be keeping that’n there bundled around you. Might bit cooler where we’re headed,” said the tanned faced man. 

“Where are we headed?” Anthiese asked. 

There was no immediate answer and she had learned that when adults didn’t say anything that it was best to stop asking and just let them do what they were going to. The choppy surf rocking the boat made her feel that she would become dizzy if this went on too long, but there was a much larger boat across the water waiting for them. That was the first step, she thought. This was a journey that would have many phases and parts. 

When she was little and Zyah was still alive, she remembered her saying to think of any difficult task as a series of smaller ones. Leaving the abbey and most of the people she had known in her life was the biggest thing that she had ever done. But maybe it could be serval small things. The first one was making it to that boat. One step closer to the goal. 

There was a flurry of movement from the monks on shore and the men who were helping them. Some of the soldiers of from the abbey were there too stationed along the beach. They were in a hurry to avoid something, she didn’t know what. 

Anthiese turned her attention to the open water where the larger ship waited. This was the first time that she had been to the shore of a beach before. When she heard it mentioned or read about it in books she thought that the ocean couldn’t have been much different than the rivers, lakes and ponds she had grown up around. 

She was wrong. 

The water stretched on forever in front of them. There was no sign of trees or land on the other side. No mountains cresting in the distance to show that there was something out there. 

Just the gray blue expanse of waves. 

“Do you remember when those men came and attacked the abbey in the night?” Asked Brother Newman.

Anthiese turned, taking a second to remember what it was he had said. She nodded. 

“It’s not safe for you at the abbey anymore, especially because that Woman knows where you are,” said Newman. 

The Woman was what they called Lady Rhea, the Archbishop. She had been so nice when they met months ago. She had called Anthiese family and said that the Crest of Mila that she bore was special. Everyone was so sure that the Crest of Mila was very special. 

The man who rowed the boat only had the one eye, it was blue, like his hair. He smiled down at Anthiese. “I’ve got a daughter you’d probably get along with. When we get there you’ll meet her.” 

No one would tell her where there is. 

In the days leading up to them leaving she had hidden in the corners of room and waited with her ear pressed to doors to hear them talk about men coming to steal her away and them having a letter on them implicating Rhea herself. She had even seen one of the men after he was…gone. His body looked strange like he had been drained of all color and there were strange markings on his skin. 

She didn’t dare let them know that she knew this. Maybe they wouldn’t physically touch the Scion of Mila, but they would take a switch if she acted out of line. 

“Do you see that little island over there?” Asked Brother Newman. 

Anthiese got up onto her knees and turned to look off to the right of where the boat was headed. There was a stone structure jutting up from a small island just off the coast. “Yeah,” she said. 

“It’s a monument to Saint Cichol. He was the husband of Mila, the progenitor of your crest,” Brother Newman said. “It’s a good omen that we should leave from this place.” He stared into her eyes over top of the blanket bundled around her small frame for a long time, as if trying to see something. She wasn’t sure what. 

“Times are…difficult,” Brother Newman started. “A noble family from the Kingdom so to it that we could leave this place. The Western Church is indebted to the Lord of Gaspard.” 

“Gaspard.” The name was familiar to her lips, the monks had made sure that every night before prayers she recited the noble houses of the Kingdom from memory. Blaiddyd. Gaspard. Fraldarius. Gautier. Dominic. Charon. Rowe… 

Waves broke around their small vessel as the one eyed man rowed. They were hoisted up on the crest of each wave and dropped back down in between, but as they moved the large ship grew nearer and with it the end of this tiny leg of their journey. 


	9. INTERLUDE - A Knight for Celica

## 1167, Harpstring Moon - Albinea Coastal Town: Evans Landing 

They would normally be in the throws of summer soon, but it was bitterly cold. The sky had been gray half their time at sea; Celica couldn’t remember what the sun on her skin felt like. She sat huddled in the corner of the small hut that Brother Newman had rented for them and spent most of her day reading and trying to stay as near to the hearth as she could manage. 

Her recent obsession was Greta, the Hero of Arianrhod. The pages on Greta Blaiddyd had been so thoroughly treaded they had grown waxy from the time her fingers spent trailing over every carefully penned line. 

Certain passages conjured up images in Celica’s head. She saw the walls of Arianrhod as she imagined them to be, impossibly pale and clean and stretching high into the sky. Even higher than the walls of the old Abbey. In these visions she was the hero Greta atop those walls looking down into an endless sea of invaders. She was the last hope of the city. She could save everyone or she could be there to see the first time that the city would fall. 

A rattling knock shook the window on the wall next to her, breaking her concentration on the book. Celica glanced up just in time to see figures duck out of the window. She watched the empty space outside through the frosted glass for a long time before getting to her feet and wandering over to the door. 

The monks had left her alone for the time being and she wasn’t to leave the house, but she just wanted a peak at them and to see who was outside causing a ruckus. She opened the door and slipped out, keeping the blanket bundled around her as the wind pulled at it and leaked into the fringes. 

“Who’s there?” 

Celica walked to the corner of the building, her feet crunching through the small piles of snow around the building. As she reached the corner of the cabin there were two boys standing in the alley between the house where she was staying and the neighbor. Her body froze and her hands flattened against her chest, clutching the blanket tight to her body. 

“Who are you?” She asked. 

One of the boys, the one with dark skin and curls like tight lambs wool, shambled forward with a strange confidence. “I’m Desmond,” he said before pointing to the other boy who was with him, a green haired boy with a soft smile. “And this is All.” 

“We saw you coming into the village with your family,” Alm said. 

“They’re not my family,” Ceclia blurted out before she realized that even that little bit of information might be too much. 

“Do you know Genny?” Asked Desmond. 

Celica shook her head, the cold was beginning to slip inside of her blanket. These two boys weren’t wearing more than long sleeve shirts and somehow they didn’t seem to be suffering like her. 

“Genny said her dad brought you back on your boat,” Alm said. 

“Oh.” 

“Do you want to come play with us?” Asked Desmond. She could now see that he was holding a short stick he had fashioned into a crude weapon. “We’re just going to be over by the Khan.” 

She shook her head again. “I…can’t leave.” 

For all of the weeks on the boat and for every day that passed since they had arrived the one thing that she had drilled into her head harder than anything else was the importance of remaining inside of the house. In fact, in her curiosity she had already violated the very first principal of what she had been told. She had been warned of trusting strangers, especially boys. 

Though she didn’t know many boys her age. There was occasionally visitors to the Monastery back in Fodlan who brought their sons, but that was a such a rarity in and of itself that she couldn’t remember the name of the last one she had spoken to. They never had the same worries as her, they certainly weren’t into the same things as her. Reading was most of her life. The monks made sure she was well versed, even when there were words they refused to explain the meaning of. 

“Oh.” Alm seemed sad, just in the way his whole body responded. 

“If you change your mind we’ll be under the Khan. He’s the big guy made of rock across the village.” Desmond pointed to a large statue that dominated the eastern side of the city under its massive shadow. 

Celica had spotted it first from the water. It seemed impossibly huge, like nothing she had ever witnessed. 

“Okay,” she said pressing her chin against her shoulder to avoid eye contact. Desmond didn’t seem to mind, but something about seeing Alm like that hurt, though she didn’t know why. 

* * *

* * *

## 1169, Blue Sea Moon - Evans Landing 

Alm rests the side of his wooden blade against his right shoulder as his eyes are fixed on the middle distance where Celica is striding forth at the front of the pretend army that she’s leading. She is talking again about what happened in a field somewhere across the sea, in the place where she’s from. A great battle that took place between rival kingdoms, but all he can do is look at the way the wisps of grass glance off her thighs as she walks. 

That coupled with how the sun catches her fiery hair is probably the most beautiful thing that he’s ever seen. He wants to hug her, to hold on to her, but he swallows that thought because it’s completely out of bounds. She’s told him of what the monks would do if he even accidentally touched her. 

But part of him wonders if maybe it’s worth the risk. 

“King Loog,” Celica screams from where she is stopped now. “Would have stood here facing down the full might of his Emperor…” 

“Who am I supposed to be again?” Came a small voice from behind Celica. Genny. She was the youngest of their little group, a scrawny girl with a bird’s nest of frizzy orange hair. 

“You’re Kyphon, Loog’s most trusted friend. And I’m Loog,” Celica proclaimed.

“I thought Loog was a man?” Asked Desmond. 

“He was, but none of the boys here know the story,” Celica said. 

Alm had heard her retell the story a hundred times by this point, he was playing the Emperor from that time, Heidegger. Celica said he was said to a beast of a man, according to this book she read called _The Sword of Kyphon_. 

Celica fumbles with the stick that she has strapped to her back, Areadbhar, she calls it. A legendary spear from the time of heroes. 

“What do we do now?” Asked Gray, who has fashioned helm from woven grass that surrounds his tanned face. 

“This is where the final battle of the war starts. So we fight, except not really, you know,” Celica said. 

“Same rules as always,” Desmond said. 

“Who is that man?” Genny calls out pointing out toward the open sea. 

“Where?” Alm turns to see it just as he asks. There’s a man atop a horse trotting toward them. He’s just crested the hill and he’s barely sitting up in the saddle, his body slumped over to one side. Two riders appear behind him, bearing down on him at full speed. 

“Are they…chasing him?” Desmond asked. 

For the first time Alm’s eyes are torn away from Celica, but they all watch the scene on the hill. 

The first rider, a white haired man with a spear in hand raises his body to sit up right as the others catch up to him. They might not have even spotted the Alm and the others, but he doesn’t want to take any chances. 

“Gray, Des, come on!” He rushes toward Celica with his stick held high and he hears his friends at his back. 

Somehow Alm knows this is it, they’ve come for her. 

He keeps looking back, watching the men, but the white haired rider rounds on his pursuers with his lance at the ready. He looks worn down to an impossible level. “Come on you blaggards. Is this what you want?” The white haired rider bellows. 

They cut his horse down first, but he expects this because he lunges into one of the men dismounting him in the process. There’s a class of metal from the amor hitting armor and then they’re both on the ground. The white haired man buries his lance in the chest of the man he’s knocked down. 

He rolled to the side, every moment seeming to pain him so greatly. 

“We’re going to protect you if anything happens,” Alm said as he reached Celica’s side. “Maybe you and Genny should run.” 

“Maybe we should all run,” Desmond said. 

The only man still on his horse rounds back to take the downed white haired rider, but in a surprise move the man, not to be defeated chucks his lance through the air to skewer his final foe and cause him to fall from his horse. As the man crumples into the field, the horse runs off. 

The white haired rider sinks to his knees and Celica is already running. “We have to help him!” She yelled, dropping her stick. 

Desmond and Genny are following her before Alm can even process what’s just happened. Then he realizes that he is running too. The grass beating at his legs as he charges to keep up. 

There’s blood everywhere, the horses that survived are nowhere to be seen, but there are two human bodies and one dead stead. Celica slid onto her knees next to the white rider, taking him by the hand. “Sire, sire are you okay?” 

“My Brianne?” The old man touched her face. 

“Celica, my name is Celica, you’re safe now,” she said. “Genny, help me!” 

Genny stands in stunned silence. “He’s hurt.” 

“Give me your hand!” Celica orders, taking Genny’s hand in her own as she mutters something quick under her breath. 

Light fills the air around them, and suddenly it’s impossibly bright. He has seen them do this before, Genny and Celica healed scrapes and cuts on them like this, but they didn’t ever hold hands or work together this way. And Celica was touching this stranger. Part of Alm was overcome with jealous. This was an emergency, though, right?

The man was more alert suddenly, a look of realization at his situation overtaking his gray blue eyes. 

Genny snatched her hand away from Celica. 

“This man. The markings on his armor, I’ve seen him before. He’s from the Church of Seiros.” 

He was holding the still grave looking wound at his side, fresh blood still poured forth. “My name is Mycen, I am…Sir Mycen of House Daphnel…” 

Celica’s eyes flitted side to side as if searching for some memory. “House Daphnel, from the Leicester Alliance.”

Mycen nodded. “You know of it,” he let out a pained grunt.

“I’ll run and get help,” Desmond said. He was the fastest of them by a long shot, Alm thought.

“You’re going to be safe now, Mister,” Alm said. 

* * *

* * *

After the run in with what seemed to be the forces of the Central Church Celica knew that her days playing in fields with her friends might be completely over. She told the monks nothing of how she and she and Genny had used their magic to collectively save Mycen and it seemed that he surmised that this was a problem as he said nothing except that he had fallen upon a stroke of luck and owed her his life.

In the year and some moons since they had come to Albinea the monks had grown in number, some had already been over here and others came from across the sea. But they had repurposed a large old farm house at the edge of town that had been run down and out of use. From there they were able to grow their own crops in the few warmer months when the weather permitted and they established makeshift home for the Goddess Sothis where they didn’t have to fear the intrusion of outsiders. 

The townsfolk of Evans left them be other than the occasional visit from the other kids and Genny’s father. He was among the men who had helped them come here and one of the first real people of Albinea she had met when he rowed them to their ship. 

It seemed that anyone who wanted to see her now would have to come to the farm. Though the addition of a real Knight of Seiros was a big event, even if it would cost her the freedom she had enjoyed. She knew that wouldn’t last forever. 

About a week after he had come to stay with them she slipped into Mycen’s quarters after her chores were done and shut the door behind her. He appeared much more frail than he had when he was clad in armor. He lay in his bed with a candle burning on the table at his side. 

“Didn’t care to knock, I see,” he said looking up from the book he was reading. 

“I didn’t want to alert Brother Newman or the others needlessly. My apologies,” Celica said.

“There is none needed,” he said. “So you are the rumored child that I heard about. Some of my men had been there when you met Lady Rhea—they were compelled to keep it in secret, but a commander has a way with his troops.” 

“You know Jeralt, then?”

Mycen laughed until he coughed. “Yeah, the old Blade Breaker? He’s not one of my men though.”

“But you left them all?” 

“I was forced out, in a sense. This is my exile,” Mycen said. “I don’t think Rhea’s claws reach this far.”

“Claws?” Everything she was told about Rhea seemed in direct opposition to the woman that she had met all those years ago. There was a kindness to her smile and a loyalty to the knights around her that didn’t seem to be possible in a woman who was as devious as everyone claimed. 

“Why were you exiled?” 

“The complex interworking politics of…being an adult,” Mycen said. “And Rhea believed me foolish enough to plot to assassinate her—I’m not even sure she believes it, but she can’t show herself to be willing to accept such talk. I’m lucky she didn’t have me killed right there, but I suppose someone around her is working to see to that. Assassins of the type you saw after me are not her way.” 

“I’m happy we found you and were able to help,” Celica said. “At least.” 

“And I am more grateful than I have any ability to show anymore, I’m afraid.” 

“There is no need for a show gratitude, Sothis asks that we show our love for her by helping those in need. I believe that is what I did that day. Nothing more than my duty to the Goddess.”

Mycen nodded. “There is a wisdom in you I think I have not seen in some years.” 

Celica felt a tingle in her chest and heat beneath her eyes. 

“Still, if you would have me, when I am better, I would like to serve you as a knight. If you would have me.” 


	10. INTERLUDE - The Truth About Heaven

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is more for old readers who have been following this, but due to the game revealing the name of Byleth's mother I have gone back and made adjustments to how she is addressed. Going forward small details about the back story and how the church works will be modeled more after how the in game church works as it either doesn't effect the story I was telling or enhances it. 
> 
> Thanks

## Late Guardian Moon, 1178

There was a space in the back of the stables of the farm behind the horses where fodder was kept for feed. In the late winter when the piles were dwindling low enough that they grew so soft that Celica could lay and read without worry the monks finding her. 

On this particular day she had been found by someone else, Wendell. He had skin like faded bronze and chalk white hair. His eyes were gold and she liked the way he smelled when after he had been picking in the field. 

And she liked the way he would touch her. 

It started out small at first, but it had been steadily escalating and she didn’t know how these things all related to each other, the same way that a fly caught in a spider’s web doesn’t know that shaking of those silken strands mark oncoming danger or another lost soul. 

Wendell was standing with his arms dangling over the back wall of the horse stable, smiling down at her. “Are you going to stay down there reading all day or are you going to invite me back there?” 

“Invite you?” Celica asked. 

“This is your little kingdom, Queen Anthiese.” 

“Queen?” She giggled, her and there was a small flutter in her chest. “Okay then, you may enter.” 

He clambered up onto the wall and scrambled down the other side, landing on his knees in the hay next to her. This just caused her to laugh more and then he did something he never had before. He tackled her back into the a pile of the loose fodder, covering her body with his. 

Celica liked that he was brazen, the way that Mycen was. Though Mycen’s touching felt familial and comforting. And Alm and Desmond were much more cautious of her, especially in the case of the former. The roughness and danger of Wendell was refreshing was all. 

And she loved how his mouth tasted and the texture of his tongue against hers. 

She shrieked before covering her own mouth. The hay was sticking her in the back and that musky smell of dry grass mixed in with the sweet smell of his sweat. “Are you going to kiss me again.” 

“Do you want me to?” He asked. 

“Yes,” she said in her smallest voice.

Wendell pushed his lips to hers, there teeth clicked together lightly and she had to suppress a chuckle. But then his tongue was full on exploring her mouth. She didn’t know what the monks would think if they found out that she let this boy touch his mouth to hers, let his hand creep further up her robes with each passing day, but she knew that this how she wanted to spend her spring. 

The longer they kissed the more she could swear they were melting, sinking deeper into the hay and the stone ground below that. They stayed locked together until the winds rattled the barn windows and the sound of Cardinal Velarin could barely be heard over the sound. He was calling her name. He had left the abbey on mainland some years back and joined them, though she wish he hadn’t. 

A remorseful moan escaped her throat as Wendell pulled back. His fingers played through a strand of her red hair. “We better go,” he said. There was something roguish in his voice, but his words still carried the weight of fear of being caught. 

They bounded out of the back of the barn and into the field behind the farm and stables, the grass was soaked from rains earlier that day and it licked at their legs like a thousand little tongues. Out past the edges of the fields where crops grew there was a building where the workers, people hired from the village of Evans, sometimes stored tools so that they could borrow them without the monks knowing. 

This time of year it would be vacant and there would be no chance of anyone finding them. They ran until Celica’s legs throbbed from the adrenaline and anticipation. Everything smelled wet and damp with a hint of the mud splashing beneath their feet. When they found the shed, it was Wendell who crashed through the door and pulled her down onto him so that they collapsed together. 

She laughed as they fell against the wooden bench inside of the small shed. 

“I think we’re alone now,” Celica said. 

“I think so,” Wendell kissed the side of her face and bundled his arms around her. 

They were sitting together, him under her and her in his lap with his body hooking awkwardly to the side so that their lips could touch. For what felt like the longest time they stayed locked together, kissing and nuzzling their faces together, and doing whatever felt right. 

“I saw something the other night,” Wendell said. 

“Huh?”

“In town, by the docks there’s this place where some of the sailors go to meet women. Desmond and I found out you can peek through the wall there and see what some of them are doing,” he said. 

“What did you see?”

“This guy, he was young, he had this girl on the edge of the bed and he was kissing her between the legs. Licking, suckling like a little calf, and everything…” 

“On her…oh.” 

Celica knew of sex, she had read about it and on one occasion that she had been promised never to talk about caught a pair of the monks engaged in what she knew had to be sex. She didn’t really see anything. Breasts. Two people connected at the waist as the brother pushed himself into the sister’s crotch over and over. 

She did not see what Wendell described. 

“I want to do it to you.” 

“Why?” 

“The way you moan when your kissed—it’s like that’s the best sound in the world. But I want to hear you make sounds like that woman I saw. I want to see if maybe…”

“I don’t know.”

“You’ll love it. And I’d love to do that for you,” Wendell said. 

“You would?” 

“Uh-huh,” he kissed her again. 

“Tell me how she sounded,” Celica said, drunk off of the feel of him so close. 

“Like nothing in the world mattered, like she was completely and utterly lost in him.” 

“It sounds like heaven.” 

“I’ll show you.” 

She could only admit to herself, but she had thought about someone at times when she was in the bath. When no servants were around to hear her or see her fingers slip inside of herself. She didn’t really know why the feeling connected to a person, a person that she wanted to share that with. Wendell or sometimes one of the older guys in the village who she saw shirtless and working to chop wood. Once it was just a young father carrying his kids, she didn’t know why that struck her. And often it was Alm. 

These were thoughts that were written in some texts as being impure, the overly strong desire for a person in a capacity that saw them reduced to just a plaything in a fantasy, but how bad could it be if the person never knew and if it was just something she did all alone to herself. 

It never lasted long. Often inside the farmhouse it was hard to find time to be that alone and now she wondered if the feeling of her own fingers was so entrancing as it caused her to risk sin how would the tongue of one of those friends that crossed her mind so often feel? 

Then Wendell was on his knees in front of her, hiking up her robes and moving her legs apart. She scooted forward on the bench to allow him greater access and when he grasped her small clothes at the waistband to pull them down her breath stopped in her throat. 

“It’s not like the other woman I saw,” Wendell said as he got her underwear fully off. 

There was a tense feeling in her chest. What did he mean? Was that bad? 

He combed his fingers through the short, thin, brick red hairs that surrounded her opening and his thumb brushed the knot of skin just above the hole. She had found it to be extremely sensitive in the past, but when his fingers glanced it she felt her body sinking as a wave of warmth washed over her. 

Wendell must have noticed. “Does that hurt?” 

“No. Please…” 

“It doesn’t?” 

She shook her head. “Keep going.” 

Wendell pressed his face in-between her thighs and kissed the opening lightly, his lips moving past the sensitive knot again and then his tongue flicked out once. The taste must have been different than he expected, because he paused for a second letting his tongue take all of her in. Then he continued, his tongue moving slow and with little discernible pattern. 

The apprehension jumbled up her insides, twisting her muscles so that her feet dug into the shed’s dirt floor. There were strokes of something better there, moments when it felt like she might burst and other times it felt odd, like someone was just clumsily licking at her. Still he kept on and those small moments of pleasure were worth the awkward intimacy of it all. 

She whined as he moved to push his face deeper in and for a few short beats she didn’t know if her was moving back and forth or she was rocking her hips against his mouth. 

Celica’s fingers tightened around the edge of the bench and a breath she didn’t know she had been holding escaped in a stuttering sigh. 

Other sounds came out of her, but only chirps and gasps as he continued to lap at her, doing all of the things that he had seen at the docks. If this had been what he saw, it was a brave imitation. Celica grew more and more sure that she loved it, but she wasn’t sure it was the heaven he had promised. 

For every euphoric second there was something nagging at the back of her mind. A small voice that she couldn’t shake that whispered discouragement that she couldn’t quite hear. She wondered if she should care, if she should try to ignore it. 

Then the door to the shed was flung open and Velarin and Newman were standing there with monks she couldn’t make out from their robes. 

“Goddess!” 

“Elites be damned!” 

Wendell turned to face them, stunned surprise playing over his features. “I’m-I’m…we were.”

Newman thrashed him to the ground, hitting him so hard that he rolled against the back of the shed. And then there was an intense pain as Velarin pushed in and grabbed her hair, pulling her up onto her feet. 

“You did this to yourself and what you’ve allowed this boy to do, well, we’ll teach you what happens when you behave as a whore!” Velarin screamed. 

The monks never touched her in the past unless she had done something so grave, so awful that they were sure the light of the Goddess was no longer with her and that she had been possessed by something else.

She was flung out onto the ground and now she could hear others coming, she glanced to Wendell where he lay in the shed, blood spilling from his leg where he had scraped it on the floor. Then she looked for anyone she could look to, anyone she could ask to protect her. 

“Your penance for this will come in time and mark my words, you will taste a whip with the full furry that Brother Allistar can muster,” Velarin said. “And you boy, well you will not have to wait any longer. 

There were a few tools left behind in the shed, small things. Newman was was fiddling them now, selecting the perfect thing for whatever terrible torment that they had in store. Then she lay there, stunned, her nether region exposed as other monks stepped up to hold Wendell down and Velarin and Newman used magic fire to heat a snipper tool. 

They towed him out into the field next to her and pinned him down. 

“Look at her, boy,” Newman ordered. “Look at the scion of the Goddess that you defiled.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t think…” 

They cut Wendell off with a boot to the face and then Velarin went to work with the tools. She didn’t want to watch, but Wendell’s eyes were locked with hers for so long and then they were pulling his tongue, cutting it out as close to wherever it was rooted as they could. He screamed, gurgling whatever blood there was until it foamed out of his mouth white with spit. 

At first she tried to scream, to plead with them to leave him be, but one of them socked her in the face, hard. So hard that she tasted her own blood in her mouth. 

The next thing she knew they had tossed the tongue on the ground next to her. 

“That is the price,” Velarin said. “I hope you see why paying it again is a fool’s endeavor.” 

* * *

* * *

It had been days and she couldn’t bathe or do anything besides lay still and try to avoid any movement that flared up the sting of the lacerations the whip had torn into her back. She didn’t eat, she barely slept, though Genny was allowed to come and check on her and make sure she took water. 

A guard was posted at her window and another at the door with padlock keeping her in for extra security. No one would speak to her about what became of Wendell or even speak of the incident directly. 

The latch on her door suddenly jangled, someone was opening it, but the sound of the door almost made her jump. That had been one of the last things she heard in the shed before disaster struck.

Then Mycen stepped in, clad in silvery armor and with his helm tucked under one arm. Normally she would have covered herself or hidden. Her whole backside was exposed and it was indecent, but there was no way she would be able to cover herself without possibly upsetting the wounds. 

“Child, Goddess, what have they done?” The old Knight said as he walked across the floor. 

She said nothing. 

“If I had been here I would not have permitted this to happen. I would have not allowed any of it—I’m supposed to be…” 

He stopped as she began to cry. She though that all of the tears had passed, but she thought that each time that they came again. 

Mycen caressed the back of her head, smoothing her hair down, which somehow only made the tears come faster and harder. She knew what the words were that were written about times like this, when things were trying and didn’t make sense. _A lady will suffer in silence._

She wondered if she believed those words anymore or believed anything that the monks and cardinal said. How could she face them again, no doubt they thought her to be less than trash now. If it weren’t for the sacred blood that coursed through her veins, if it weren’t for her Crest they would have ended her. 

Of that she was sure. 

Mycen let out a sharp sigh. “Young people do things like this, it’s not exactly a secret. It’s one thing if they want to abide by the strict standard of not touching you, but there has to be some room for your own choice in the matter.” 

“I knew what I did—what I was doing was wrong. Yet I chose to ignore the Goddess’s truth.” 

Mycen rose from the bed, his hand trailing through her hair. “This is no truth at all,” he said. “I mustn’t linger here, I hope to see you out and about soon.” 


	11. INTERLUDE The New Exile

## 1178, Horsebow Moon

It started with fire. 

The night sky was already alight with orange from the flames on the other side of the city. 

The wind must have carried the smoke that shook Celica from her slumber. Though it could be said that she hardly slept at all since the incident with Wendell. She rubbed her eyes, clearing away the confusion as she did and then the door burst open and Mycen was there clad in his full armor with his visor open so that only his eyes showed in the dull light from the sky. 

“There’s been an attack. There’s fighting in the streets. We have to go.” 

Celica rushed to her feet, slipping into her shoes and throwing on a robe. She grabbed her dagger too, tucking it into her belt. She and Mycen made their way down the stairs as he tried to catch her up. 

“The fire started and then there was men in the harbor. They must have slipped in on boats. We don’t know how many or how far into the city…” 

He shoved her aside at the bottom of the stairs and brought his sword up to block a wild swing from a gangly looking woman with a pierced lip. He slammed his armored fist into the side of her face, knocking her to the ground and then jabbed his spear into her. 

“It’s not safe here.”

Celica nodded, though this was all too much to take in at the moment. These didn’t seem like the regular types of assassin that she had come to expect and this attack seemed designed with the whole town in mind and not just finding her, though the last attempt on her life had been so long ago that she wasn’t sure the Church knew where she was or even if she was still alive. 

The streets were wild with people running past to escape the carnage. Three figures raced around the corner at one end of the street, dressed in furs and carrying hatchets brandished to kill. Mycen pushed Celica behind his back and prepared to face them, but three arrows whizzed past them and buried themselves in the men of their would be attackers. 

Celica and Mycen turned to see Alm and Desmond atop a cart, Alm had Genny in tow and was glaring down at her. Had he become angry that she had shut him out? This wasn’t the time for this. 

“We came to make sure you’re okay.” Alm said. 

“I’m okay. I’m sorry,” Celica said the last part on instinct. 

Mycen beckoned to Genny to step down to him, as she edged up to the side of the cart he wrapped and arm around tugged her through the air sitting her down at his side. “Come on boys, we need to get out of here. Where are you families?” 

“Fighting the fire in Joyful Khan, that side of the town seems mostly unaffected by anything else,” Desmond said. 

“For once I’m glad the wealth is more focused on the city center. We can cut through the back roads and make for that side of town. It’s probably best we ride this thing out there,” Mycen said. 

“Lot of ground to cover between here and Joyful Khan,” Celica said. 

“Then we best get moving.” Alm walked jumped down off of the cart and walked over to Celica being sure to keep himself at a reasonable distance. He drew a second sword off his side and handed it to her. “Just in case.” 

Celica nodded. “I’m not totally helpless,” she said. 

Desmond pressed in close to them, taking Genny by the wrist. “Stay close and if we say run you run.” 

“I will.” Genny said. 

Going into the fields was their best bet and Mycen knew this, but he must have known that she would want to make sure that the people in Joyful Khan were okay. She didn’t really know where the brothers, sisters and Cardinal were, but she wondered if she really cared anymore. 

They moved through the streets, their feet pounding over the cobble stone as Desmond picked off anyone who tried to pursue them and Alm and Mycen cleared the path ahead. 

Two arrows thudded into the wall next to them and Celica turned without thinking and cupped her hands in front of her chest, dropping the sword. She knew the finger motions from years of practice, but she had never had the practical application for using them in a high stress situation. Rapidly her fingers moved through the short series of intricate motions before pressing her hands outward and up at where the arrows had been fired from. 

A large fireball erupted from her hands and then a second, slamming into the attackers and throwing them back across the roof. For a moment the others stood in stunned silence.

“Where did you learn that girl?” Asked Mycen. 

“Books.” She said as she stooped down to retrieve the weapon. 

“Come on,” Mycen motioned for them to follow and they sprinted to the end of the street, took a sharp right and then hurried into a narrow alley between two buildings. This passage emptied into a street on the other side, but there was no telling how safe any area was and they were running mostly blind into danger. 

Alm reached the end of the alley first. He peered around the corner out into the street and then turned back to them. “Coast is clear,” he said as he stepped out into the road. 

An arrow pounded into his back, causing him to whirl around and grab at the wound and then another caught him in the gut. 

“Alm!” Celica shouted as she brazenly shoved through the narrow space, dodging out of Mycen’s grasp and letting the sword fall from her hands to get to Alm. 

They were surrounded by three men with swords, in an instant and there was at least one more somewhere else with a bow. 

Desmond nocked an arrow and aimed it at one of the men. “Let them go,” he said. 

One of the men looked at him and then down at Celica cradling Alm in her arms. “We’ve got a friend up there somewhere who says you won’t do a damn thing, kid. Even if you was fast enough he’d kill them both before you could find him.” 

“What is it you want?” Mycen asked. 

“Anything you got, old man.” 

“This armor, it’s old but it’s masterwork quality. Could fetch a pretty bit of coin if you know where to look,” said Mycen. 

The assailants looked at each other and Celica could tell they were unsure of the proposition. 

“I’ve got a rare Crest. One of the rarest,” she admitted. “You could have me…sire a bloodline and become instant nobility.” 

“What are you saying?” Alm uttered, his voice struggling to come out. 

“Or there’s a price on my head. The Central Church would pay you handsomely if you just turned me in…please, just don’t hurt them. Let me heal Alm and let them go,” she begged. 

While the men thought this over, Alm raised himself up. He caught Celica by the chin and brought his lips to her and kissed her full on the mouth. This sent her head, panic shot through her veins like ice water. 

This is where things went wrong with Wendell. 

This shouldn’t be happening. 

Should have pushed him away, but she didn’t want to. She liked this, she liked kissing Alm. For a moment the world seemed to stop crumbling around them. The men shouting, the smell of smoke in the air—none of it mattered for those few seconds. 

There was a loud crash and a flash of heat that washed over Celica and Alm. She pulled away from him, turning to see a fireball hurtling through the air toward one of the men that had captured them. Another pair of fire balls came from other directions slamming into their captors. 

“It would seem that we were right about you before. And you haven’t learned a thing,” said Brother Newman as he stepped out of the shadows, there were three monks backing him up, she couldn’t see their faces. He went to pull Celica up by the arm. “You’re lucky we found you.” 

Celica snatched her arm away. “Just leave him be, leave him alone!” Grabbing the arrows as close to the points as she could and tugged them out. She touched the sides of Alm’s face, the blood from her fingers rubbing off on his cheeks. She channeled healing energy into him until her body began to glow and his wounds pull back together and close up.

Newman and the monks advanced. “Release the boy.” 

“No,” Celica said, cradling Alm tight in her arms. 

When Newman reached out to grab for them, Mycen stepped out to block them, Jenny and Desmond followed, cutting the monks off from their friends. 

“You are only making your punishment more severe,” one of the monks chided her. 

“You lay a hand on that girl or the boy and I will cut you down where you stand,” Mycen said. 

Newman turned his nose up at them. “We should have left you to die all those years ago. I knew it. You’re still clinging to your ideas of human nobility and servitude, we serve only the Goddess Sothis. Her will be done.” 

“And yet you stopped, do you not want to find out if tales of going into the Goddess’s protection after death are true? I can send you to her,” Mycen said. 

“Brother Newman, this isn’t worth it. We’re evenly matched at least and there’s still rabble looting throughout the city—we need to all get to safety,” another monk said. 

Newman turned and motioned for the other monks to follow as they headed toward the fires on the other side of the city. Celica, Genny, Desmond, and Alm were left along with only the distant clash of weapons and the agony laden cries of victims. 

* * *

* * *

There were still fires smoldering on the other side of the city and everything smelled of smoke and salt from the water they had used to extinguish what could be put out. The Western Church leaders who had come to Albinea, instead of helping those in need in the slums built under the Joyful Khan, were off meeting to decide what to do about the things that had happened with Alm. 

She didn’t know how she would get on without him, but she didn’t want him to end up like Wendell. 

Wendell who looked at her with scorn anytime he saw her. 

Wendell who was forced to still work the fields around the farm house because, despite the fact that he had been mutilated for a momentary bit of pleasure with her, there wasn’t anything else that a boy with no family could do in this town. 

There were so many people without families here, people in need. That was the thing that the church should have been working to help, but they were more concerned with who she was kissing. They were concerned with this proxy war with a woman who Celica was convinced didn’t realize she even had enemies on this nowhere island. 

Mycen was there, arguing in her stead at least. He was working to see that the request she had made upon arriving back at the farm this morning was carried out. 

If they had to punish Alm for what happened then just exile him. It was better that way. He could at least have normal life somewhere. 

Though it hurt her to think of a life without Alm and what would Desmond do without his friend? Would he leave? Would he resent her? 

Someone knocked at the door and she whirled around to face away from the window where the pal gray clouds were just beginning to fade. 

“Who’s there?” She asked. 

“It’s me.” Alm’s voice. 

Celica bounded for the door, throwing it open and staggering backward as Alm and Mycen stepped inside. 

“I’m sorry,” Alm said. “This whole goddamn thing is my fault,” he said his head sinking. His expression soured. 

“No, no it’s not.” 

“Go on, tell her Alm,” Mycen said. 

“They’ve seen to it that I’ll be sent away. Not just somewhere else on Albinea. I’ll be going to the Fódlan. I’ve come to say goodbye.” As he said the words tears gathered in her eyes. She felt her legs trembling, unable to support the weight that they always had been entrusted. 

Alm wrapped his arms around her, caught her by the shoulders and pressed his forehead to hers. “This isn’t goodbye though. I’ll wait for you where you always said you would end up. I’ll be there. I promise.” 

Celica nodded, she understood, but perhaps Alm was afraid someone would overhear. 

“Until then I’ve asked Desmond to hang back here and keep track of the other boys in Joyful Khan and just make sure that you’re safe. Okay?” 

“Okay,” she said, her voice breaking. 

“Find me.” Alm said.

Mycen’s stoic expression cracked as he spoke. “It’s time, boy.” 

Alm let her go and walked for the door. “Don’t think this is your fault. You saved my life last night and you saved it again today—I love you, Celica. I always have—I think deep down you’ve felt the same.” 

Celica dropped stumbled back until she was sitting on her bed, her body shaking with rage. A deep pain gnawed at her stomach. Why was this happening? Why was it her place to suffer like this? 


	12. INTERLUDE - Joy Con Boyz Forever

## 1184 Pegasus Moon 

Albinea was the kind of place that one found those willing to overlook a checkered past. It was rare that people made their way to these frigid shores of their own volition; it was a place to hide or be hidden from something. Despite the roaring fires on both sides of the room, the air was still cold enough that mist wafted out of the mouths of everyone who spoke. 

Though, Celica wasn’t born of this land cold forked through her veins. The biting chill hardly affected. So much so that she scanned the crowds around her looking for chattering teeth or a tense aversion to the air just to tell if someone was a newcomer. 

If anyone had been sent to kill her, that would be one of the first signs they were from Fódlan. 

The sky had already begun to darken, they wouldn’t be able to leave if they waited too much longer. Every moment on Albinea was a moment she could be discovered. 

To be stationary was death. 

Celica kept her hood pulled up and her cloak bundled around her form, but even then she had this kind of light emanating from her. Her reddish eyes watched Sir Mycen, who stood out in his own way with his nicked snd dented suit of armor still polished to as pristine a gleam as it could manage, he sat across from her, leaned in close to speak. 

“Desmond said he could find us someone, they should be here by now,” Mycen said. 

His body was trembling so hard that Celica could feel it through the table and even the floor. 

“The promise of good coin should be enough to get him to show up and we should have enough that he’s willing to see to it that we reach Fódlan safely,” Celica said. 

Mycen ran his thumb and index finger along his bushy, gray mustache as he surveyed the room over the top of his hand. “I hope whatever’s brought him out here wasn’t so horrible that he couldn’t return to Fodlan. There’s no telling what these people have done—I thought I told you to stop letting that girl wander off on her own,” he added suddenly. 

“Genny is a grown woman, let her relieve herself in peace,” Celica said. 

“You speak of the dangers of the world, milady,” Mycen started. “But I don’t think you know the true weight of the words.” He leaned in even closer, standing up from his seat to do so. “You must remain vigilant,” he whispered, his face brushing against the side of the hair near her ear. 

Celica threaded her fingers through one another, stretching her arms out until her clasped hands rested upon her knee. “You were a Knight of Seiros once upon a time,” she said. 

The clergy of the Western Church who had once been her protectors said very little about their counterpart and the central Knights of Seiros. When Celica showed a curiosity about such things she was harshly chastised. She wondered what they would do if they caught her.

Mycen nodded, his eyes flashed with a kind of deep regret, but he seemingly fought it back until his expression became more neutral. 

“When we arrive will you take me to see the Silver Maiden? I think it’s near Arianrhod on the border of the Empire and the Kingdom, correct?” 

Mycen smiled. “You’ve always kept to your books, haven’t you milady. I was actually born in a village right near the Maiden.” 

“You’ll have to show it to me when we get there…to Fódlan,” Celica said. 

He gave a single nod. “Goddess willing,” he said before lifting his drink to his lips. 

“I’m sure it’s a bit warmer over there too,” she said. “I don’t remember it. Like I remember there being more sun.” 

A commotion flared up on the opposite side of the tavern. There was a sound like chairs scraping against the hardwood floor and a glass broke somewhere in the distance. Celica craned her neck to the side to see around Mycen as he turned to glance across the room too. A set of men were gathered around someone, but she couldn’t see who. 

“Genny.” Something welled deep inside of her chest, a sense of dread. 

Mycen bolted up from the table, his chair skidding across the wooden floor and then toppling over. He moved toward the ruckus and Celica followed, sticking close to him as they pushed their way through. A babyfaced man with wispy blond hair that was almost white held tight to Genny’s wrist. He was dressed in clothes that looked as if they had once been fine, but had faded over the years. 

“I really don’t see any other choice,” the babyfaced man said. As he smiled, he tilted his head upward and the light caught the thin white peach-fuzz that dotted his chin. He must have been older than he appeared, he sounded older. 

“No,” Genny said. “I can’t.” Though she wasn’t pulling hard, she was braced in a way that it was clear she was trying to wrench her arm free of his grasp. 

He sat his mug of ale aside and thumbed Genny’s cheek, pushed back a curl of strawberry blonde hair as he held her face, but she still struggled to avert her gaze from his. 

“I don’t ask for things twice.” The man jerked her toward him roughly. 

Mycen pushed forward, hand at the ready to draw his sword. “You’d do best to let the girl go.” His voice was no longer the soft, measured tone that had regarded Celica only moments earlier. 

The babyfaced man opened his mouth to say something, turning with a jolt to see Mycen inching toward him. Before he could fully form the first word though, a tan bicep pressed in against the side of his face. He was trapped in a crushing headlock by a gruff looking character with a lined face. One of his eyes was missing, replaced by a patch and his hair was shaved on the sides, but long and wispy on the top. 

Mycen froze and the man who held babyface spoke. “I think I got this one, old timer. Cody here left me for dead, isn’t that right Cody.” 

Cody, presumably the babyfaced man, was red in the face already. His boots scraped at the floor as the other man dragged him back away from Genny. He looked like he couldn’t manage to speak, let alone breathe.

This new man was older the Cody, tall and slender with a musical stomach that was peeking out under his shirt and through his open leathers and furs. He had wild, dark red hair and his facial hair was trimmed into a line that ran down the center of his chin and spread out into a small goatee there. The most prominent feature this man had was his eyes, one brown and the other obscured by a patch made of leather with a strap to hold it in place. 

“Not many women on Albinea, so some blokes get a little too eager when they see one,” the man said looking at Genny, said the eye-patched man. Cody struggled against him, but seemed to be getting nowhere. 

Now there was a crowd watching, all eyes in the tavern had turned toward the one eyed man and Cody. 

“Most people would presume the way to remedy that situation is to get more women to come out here, but I have an easier solution.” The man grabbed Cody’s face, holding his hand tight over his mouth and nose for several moments as Cody jerks and pulls and struggles to get free of the man’s grasp. 

The man with the eyepatch is unfazed by anything Cody does to avoid dying as his movements become weaker and his motions more sluggish. It isn’t long before Cody falls silent and slumps forward, but the man held him tight still. After several seconds he let’s Cody’s body fall to the floor. 

“Usually I’d check him for valuables, but I’ll leave something this one be so his companions have something to send to his kinfolk, just remember to tell ‘em Saber says hi,” the man turned and grabbed up the mug that had been Cody’s and finished it off. Then he turned to Genny. “Are you okay little lass?” 

Genny nodded enthusiastically, her eyes still large with shocked from what had transpired. 

“You’re the man Desmond sent, the one he said to look out for?” Asked Mycen as he made his way through the crowd. The people around them were rather nonplused about the killing they had just witnessed. Grust was not Evans, it was precisely the kind of place that the monks had always tried to keep Celica away from, but it was a place they wouldn’t think to look for her right away and one where they could find transport off of the island. 

“The name’s Saber,” he nodded as he said to them. “I’ve never worked with Desmond, but word travels fast in the underground. His Joy Khan Boys seem like a trustworthy sort and when he put out feelers that he was looking for help I figured it would be a nice way to earn some coin, visit the mainland and such.” 

In the years since the fire and since Alm had left, Desmond had become something of a protector of the slums in Evan. His gang called themselves the Joy Khan Boys, after the Joyful Khan statue, though it was often stylized as Joy Con Boys, because Desmond, like most in Albinea, didn’t have a formal education and hadn’t come across the word ‘khan’ written out. 

“Where is Desmond?” Asked Genny. 

“Said he had business to attend to, might have been something truly important or some pretty little thing down by the docks that caught his eye, you never know,” Saber said. 

Celica watched Genny, she seemed to hang off of the man’s every word from the moment that he saved her and called her lass. She had never really paid attention to how Genny was with the other boys because there seemed to be nothing to it, her interactions were simple things that never warranted questioning. 

“It would be a shame to leave without telling the lad bye,” Mycen said. “Especially after all he’s done.” 

Celica hung her head. “Perhaps we can delay just a little longer,” she said. It was a bit much to ask after what they had done, Celica tried not to dwell on that now. 

“Sir Mycen,” said Genny. “Aren’t you going to ask him about his qualifications or…” 

“The girl is correct,” Mycen said looking at Saber. “Not that I don’t trust Desmond, but I want to hear what kind of man we’re dealing with.” 

Saber shrugged. “Ain’t much to tell. Momma was a Duscur girl daddy took a liking to. He was a knight of a low level house in the Kingdom. He was hardly around and I got no idea where he is. She raised me and kept me and my sister with a roof over out heads. I did odd jobs, typical sell sword shit, pardon my Almyran. We put down rebellions, helped em, worked for the church or some not so church types—basically whoever paid me first. Always sent a little home to mom and sis. Then home got wiped out, so I figured I’d see the world.” 

“Do you know what we’ve done?” Asked Celica. “Who we are?” 

Saber shrugged. “I was never a religious type. You pissed off both the Western and Central branches of the church. Desmond mentioned you burned down a farm after they were whipping a poor boy, I got no qualms with that.” 

Hot pokers pulling out a tongue. 

The fires of Joyful Khan.

A burning farm house. 

Celica was beginning to see a pattern. Change in her life came with fire. 

“You don’t ask many questions, which I guess could be seen as a good thing,” Celica said. 

Mycen motioned to them. “We should head out if we can now, before it gets too late.” 

They made their way to the doors, Saber grabbing up a scant collection of things near the front of the tavern that he had fastened down with a pad lock that held them shut. As they made their way down the cracked cobblestone streets Desmond came charging through the crowd toward them waving a satchel. 

“Wait up,” he said. “Thought I was going to miss you for a bit there!” 

Desmond looked much the same as he had as a child, only now his hair was tall with the two shaved level so that it formed a perfect plateau on top of his head. Celica didn’t know how this was done so accurately or who had done this and every time she asked Desmond refused to divulge his secret. He wore a suede and fur coat with his quiver concealed in the ruffles of the fur and his bow dangling at his side. 

“Where did you get off to?” Asked Celica. 

“I had to get you a gift,” he said as he dug in the bag and produced a round golden object, it was a fasten that you pulled a cloak through on the front of your clothes so that it didn’t get in the way. ‘Joy Con Boys’ was etched in the front of it with smiling picture of the Khan in the center. He handed one to each of them save Saber and then held up an extra one. “If you were sticking I around I would have eventually made you official members, but circumstances change I guess, huh,” Desmond said. 

Celica stepped forward and hugged him. She hadn’t really been able to do that before, was she even the kind of person that hugged? It felt right. 

“This really does mean a lot,” Celica said. 

“If you need anything over there, just send word. I’ll do what I can, don’t hesitate. I’m on your side through thick and thin. Make sure Alm gets this when you see him,” he said handing over the last one. “Joy Khan Boys for Life.” 

Celica smiled. “Joy Khan Boys forever,” she said. 

“Now I know you have a boat to catch, I’ll walk you there. It’s the least I could do,” Desmond said.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This final interlude is something I have been planning to do for a while. In June 2019 YouTuber Desmond Daniel Amofah who went by the handle 'Erika' took his own life in Manhattan New York. Desmond was a funny motherfucker and part of the reason why I ever got into Persona and Fire Emblem as hard as I did. He just seemed like a great guy and a welcoming part of the community from what others have said about him and he brought a lot of joy to the lives he touched. His online fan group Joy Con Boyz is still alive and strong and I just wanted to write a tribute to him in a story that probably would have never happened without him. 
> 
> We miss you bro. Joy Con Boyz forever.


	13. I'll Never Be Through Saving That Girl

Lysithea is crumpled against the floor, her back resting on the wall with one arm on the ground to stabilize her and the other fussing with her night gown. She has made it further today, Ferdinand thought as he placed the tray he had been carrying aside. Everything in this old estate house is much too far away for her to make it in her weakened state. He found himself cursing the home that he had grown up in, the home that had been a sign of his families power for centuries. 

She looks up at him, her pink eyes laden with shame, though her voice still held her usual determination. “I had pretty much decided I was going to have to soil myself. Pretty sure my leg is going to bruise.”

Ferdinand gathered her up in his arms, one hand hooked under her knees and the other around her back. She hugged close to him resting her head on his chest. His wife. His love. The mother of his child. 

“Why didn’t you call out?” He asked. 

“I didn’t know where you were. My screaming could have woken Lucian,” Lysithea said. 

He wondered the truth of the matter their son was quite a ways across the the manor and even if she were yelling he was a heavy sleeper. He suspected that his wife was embarrassed to be found in a compromising position such as this and didn’t want to appear like she needed help though she did. Casting doubt on anyone who might worry for her had always been part f who Lucina was. Somehow she acted as if this were a secret to him. 

Ferdinand nuzzled his chin against the top of her head. “I had gone to get you a treat as a surprise for the morning is all.” 

“Is it cake?” 

“Yes.” 

She knew this because it was always cake. Or pie. Or, when they had, it ice cream. Anything to make her days as restful and comfortable as possible.

When they reached the washroom, Ferdinand carried her over to the toilet and placed her gently down, making sure that her gowns were out of the way. Without being asked to do anything further, he reached up under her and lifted her so that he could carefully draw her under garments down so that they were around her ankles. 

“I can do this part myself,” Lysithea said even as she wobbled from trying to balance on the toilet top. 

He took her around the shoulder and grasped her hand in his to steady her. “I’ll have a handle installed just in case, there probably should be one anyway,” he said. 

“Thank you,” Lysithea said. 

“This is what I’m here for, my love,” Ferdinand said. 

He could hear her pee into the basin, feel how hard she clenched his hand and how she didn’t speak during the act. It was clear that there was a pain, perhaps her whole body hurt all of the time. Lysithea would never admit it, but he considered it a good night when after he wiped her and lifted her from the toilet, before he pulled the chain above to bring water down from the tank to wash it out, he didn’t see the hint of crimson in the water. 

That gave him hope, despite the fact that his wife was trapped in a deteriorating body and all of the money in the Empire could truly do nothing for her. 

It seemed that tonight was a good night. 

He helped her wash her hands, carried her back to the bed before going to wash his hands and retrieve the cake. Ferdinand expected that by the time he came back she would be sound asleep, but she was sitting up in the bed. A lit candle burned beside her. 

“Did you do this?” He asked putting the tray on the room table.

“Do what?” 

“You know what I’m talking about, Lysithea. Did you light the candle?” 

“Yes.” 

“With you magic?” 

“If it could even be called that. It barely took a spark.” 

Ferdinand slammed his hands down on the table. “You don’t need to do that. Why do you always insist on doing this. Every doctor you’ve seen has told you the same thing, that your powers are too draining for you. That you might not survive another spell.” 

“Every doctor I saw said that having a baby would kill me too, those doctors are fools. They don’t know what I’m capable of.” 

“Lysithea…” 

“Is that a vanilla cake with Adrestian Cream icing? Mmm, I can smell it from here,” she said leaning forward in the bed. 

Ferdinand smiled, lifted the tray and brought it over to sit it on the bed. 

For all of the issues in her weakened state, Lysithea was the most animated when she ate or played with Lucian. She cut into the cake, slicing pieces off to devour them with the fork and then going back for more without taking a second to think or breath.

“Sorry about how plans got ruined,” she said through a mouth full of food. 

“What do you mean?” 

“We were supposed to be at the Millennium celebration, but you’ve been totally ignoring it like you forgot. I know it’s because you’re scared to ask me to travel. I can sense these things, Ferdinand…”

He watched her eat in silence and then felt her scoot in close to him. Her faded pink hair looked blue in the dull moonlight that came through the big bay doors by the balcony. 

Then she did something that would have been surprising if he thought that Lysithea could surprise him anymore, she snaked a hand into his trousers and wrapped her fingers around his member. Her hands were so warm and small, there was a frailness to them when he looked at them, but right now her grip felt as sure as ever. 

He sighed, almost telling her that she needed to stop, that she needed to conserve her energy, but he wanted his wife so badly. He wanted any sign that she was going to be okay and that this would all pass and she’d go back to being her old self. 

Ferdinand moved closer to her, almost upending the tray in the process. The plate slide down and touched against the side of Lysithea’s body, though her eyes were locked n his cock now. 

“You look lost in thought,” Lysithea said from the spot where her head rested on his thigh. “What are you thinking about?” 

“You,” Ferdinand said. 

She laughed. “Seems appropriate,” she said as she gathered some of the left over icing off the plate and slathered it down the length of him before taking him fully into her mouth. 

His wife really did love her cake. 

Afterward he would make an excuse to go clean up and get her a glass of water, which he would truly do, but he would spend a good deal of his time standing at the end of the hall near the window facing the distant Oghma Mountains trying and failing to fight the tears. 

There had to be something to be done. He couldn’t lose Lysethia. 

* * *

* * *

The morning came with a light haze that rolled over the plains with periodic rain storms that hammered at the roof and windows of the manor. Lysethia was sleeping in and, after checking on Lucian, Ferdinand went about looking into someone who might have a more varied approach to his wife’s problems. They had considered her issues as if they were part of some illness, but when someone is taken by a phage or other pathogen it is not typically because of something added to their bodies. 

Doctors were accustomed to fighting the symptoms, helping the body survive long enough for the illness to pass, but the illness was something placed inside of her and it wouldn’t pass. They needed to look at finding a way to remove what caused the trouble in the first place. 

He had thought about it most of the night, and barely slept because of it, but the only person he could think of who was capable of doing what he needed was probably Professor Hanneman at the Officers Academy. The polite thing to do was to send a letter asking for his counsel and then wait for a response, but Ferdinand feared there wasn’t time for that. He would have to devise some way to make it to Garreg Mach as soon as possible and with Lysethia in her current state. 

She would be upset about leaving Lucian behind, but he felt that was the only way that they could make the trip the least bit more manageable, plus the roads were no place for a babe his age. They would be made to move fast across the open plains of the northern Empire and there was always a chance they could encounter bandits or even the Western Church. Either would be trouble. 

Ferdinand was reliably certain that he could defend himself and Lysethia from harm, but adding another helpless person into the mix was too much. 

Not that he thought his wife was helpless, but he knew to put her into a position where she had to fight could end her life even if she were successful. 

He worked through a list of things in his head that they would need to take with them at the bare minimum. At their fastest the trip could be made in about three weeks, but that was really accounting for them doing the hardest riding everyday. It wasn’t a good way to conduct travel and they would need to make it to Garreg Mach in a way when they were still fresh enough for Lysethia to be looked over by Hanneman and possibly the other professors. 

There was the sound of bare feet padding across the floor toward him and he looked back over his shoulder to see her stumbling toward him wearing a robe that was far too big for her, one of his robes. 

“It looks like you’ve been up for a while,” said Lysethia with a smile. Her walking was completely normal now; this is how things went with her. There would be stretches of time where she could function as she had before and the other times she was confined to her bed and unable to keep food down. 

It made Ferdinand wonder how morally right it was that people should have Crests if just the power of them in a slight abundance could ruin a life this thoroughly. 

“I decided that maybe we should chance a trip to the Monastery,” he said. 

“This late? The Millennium Celebration isn’t really won’t even be at its height by the time we get there. It’s okay. Just because I brought it up we don’t have to rush over there.” 

“Actually, I was thinking more along the lines of if we could try and see if there was something Hanneman could do. We’ve only dealt with doctors and medicine types, maybe the answers don’t really lay with them since the thing done to you wasn’t…natural,” Ferdinand said.

Lysithea let out a short sigh, her body stiffening at the mention of what was really going on. She didn’t ignore that this whole thing was a factor in their lives, but she didn’t quite treat it with the weight that he thought it deserved. They couldn’t afford to be nonchalant with her health. They couldn’t afford to waste more time. 

“If you think there’s anything to be gained from it,” said Lysithea finally. 

“There definitely could be,” Ferdinand said. 

She touched his wrist, her small warm fingers playing over the ruffled edge of his sleeve until she could grasp him. Her hands were cool and damp with sweat, but felt so smooth. “Ferdinand, I feel fine,” she said. 

“I just worry. I think it’s worth the effort. You’re worth it,” he said. 

Lysithea sank against him, forcing herself into the space between him and the table so that her butt was resting where he had just been writing. She kissed him and there were hints of the butter cream icing from last night and the wine that she had rinsed her mouth with after waking. 

“You’re too nice to me,” she said. 

“I just feel like we might not have much time.” 

“You don’t know that. No one does,” she said combing her fingers through this auburn hair. 

Over the last year he had let his dedication to his duties as Duke lapse in the face of the mounting severity of her illness. Soon after they graduated from the Officer’s Academy Edelgard had replaced her father on the throne and within days of her ascension she forced Ferdinand’s father and several of the other lords involved in the Insurrection of the Seven out of their respective positions, with the exception of Count Vestra who Hubert dealt with personally. 

Since his appointment, Ferdinand has depended on the help of other lords, mostly House Hevring, for support. Though the Empress and some of the others knew what was going on, people might begin to talk if he remained inactive in his role as Duke. Edelgard’s power was shaky at best and that was his father’s fault. The least he could do is show support for her where all of Fódlan could see him with her. 

Ferdinand glanced up into her eyes. “At the very least grant me the chance to join the Imperial ruler and our other classmates for the tail end of this celebration—if we can catch them before things end.” 

“I’d never refuse a chance to see our friends. It has been some time,” Lysithea said.

* * *

* * *

Outside of their window the sky was still dark. The Blue Sea Star, which had illuminated the night sky for the past several months, was completely absent. A sign that winter would soon have them firmly in its grasp and that the apex of the Millennium Celebration was just upon them. 

Things felt too much like they did five years ago. Mercedes could feel a tightness in her chest that she hadn’t known since those nights alone during her days at the Academy. She found a place to call home in those several months, she found a wife, and just a place that she belonged with comrades, co-workers, and family. 

But it was a turbulent time. There were dangers that had never been resolved. Things seemingly stopped and now they were just back? It made no sense. 

She glanced over at Byleth laying next to her, face down with the sheet pulled up to the base of her neck. Mercedes reached over and rocked Byleth lightly. 

“I’m awake.” 

“Oh, I didn’t know—I just…”

“You’re thinking about tomorrow. I know.” Byleth rolled over so that she was laying on her side and looking up toward Mercedes. 

“Have you just been laying there this whole time?” 

“I was thinking she’s going to ask me something any minute. Then I couldn’t say anything after I laid there too long because it would come off as weird to just pretend to sleep that long and then just pop up like: ‘here I am’.” 

Mercedes gathered her hair to one side, to keep it out of the way and leaned down to kiss Byleth. 

“What is it?” Byleth asked, her voice taking on a warm tone.

“I was thinking about something,” Mercedes said, laying down so that they were face to face. “Five years ago there was a sharp escalation in aggression from the Western Church and from the Flame Emperor. And it just stopped. 

“Yeah, I mean except that the Death Knight still shows up—he was part of all that,” Byleth said. 

Mercedes linked her hand with her wife’s. “What if that was the dry run? They did it five years out from the Millennium Celebration knowing that there would be even more chance for havoc now,” she said. 

Byleth thought for a moment. “You think there’s a group out there working on a time table that far in advance? Like another Kingdom? Or are you suggesting an attack from within Fódlan? Sabotage?” 

Kingdoms or the branches of the Church thought in long term like that, but it was difficult to think of an organization that had the longevity to plan their actions out in the same way that century old countries and a church. What was Mercedes thinking of here? The only groups outside of the three kingdoms and the church she could think of were Dagda, Brigid, Almyra—countries that didn’t have much stake in the goings on of the Church itself. They were mostly entangled with Adrestia or the Alliance. To an outside kingdom those places would probably be viewed by themselves, despite the fact that the people of Fódlan tended to view Almyrans or the people of Brigid collectively as an unknowable other.

“I don’t know.” 

“The implications are,” Byleth laughed and sat up. “They’re dire either way. Either we’re to think that Albinea or Dagda has the kind of power to do something on this scale or we’re implicating Claude or Petra or, worse, Edelgard or Dimitri or Hilda…” 

“There could be a rogue faction in one of their kingdoms, someone beneath them with a dedicated group working to undermine the Church of Seiros,” Mercedes said. “We could be walking into a trap.” 

“Oh, is that all you’re worried about?” Asked Byleth. 

“A trap would put us off balance tactically. We aren’t even sure what we would be getting,” said Mercedes. 

“I walk into traps intentionally, like, ninety-five percent of the time someone sets them for me. That puts the balance in my hands. No one expects you to be crazy enough to just jump into a trap,” Byleth said. 

“It’s a wonder you made it to our wedding day.” 

“Not really, the last thing you want to put inside your trap is me,” Byleth said. She rose from the bed and righted her robes, walking to the other side of the room where there was a small table with a covered pitcher of water on it. “Let’s try to get some sleep though, let me get you a drink. It might help calm your nerves.” 

Byleth returned to the bedside with the water and stood on the side of Mercedes’s side before handing it over. 

“Thank you,” Mercedes said taking the glass. She gulped it down in go and placed it on the bedside table. She was sitting up now and wrapped an arm around Byleth’s waist and pulled her down onto the bed across her lap. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

Mercedes stared into her wife’s eyes for a long time, running her fingers through Byleth’s forest green hair. The room grew darker and a stiff wind outside rattled branches on distant trees. There was a hint of the smoke; a smell from the camp fires burning just outside the Monastery walls and the hearths filled with dimming embers. 

Mercedes wrapped a hand under Byleth’s chin and they kissed, Mercedes luring her upright with an understood, unspoken promise. They crawled to the center of the bed their limbs becoming tangled and then being untangled from the wadded sheets. Mercedes took hold of Byleth from behind, grabbing her at the wrists. Her breasts against Byleth’s shoulder blades. 

She nipped at Byleth’s shoulder with her teeth and then whispered in her ear. “What do you want?” Her lips brushed at the small tendrils of Byleth’s hair and the lobe of her ear. The question carried with it an intimate connotation. 

“Mmm, rough,” Byleth said. 

Mercedes snaked her arm around so that her hand was on Byleth’s stomach, she spread her fingers, letting them ghost over her bellybutton and further and further down. Down until Mercedes was sure that she was pushing that boundary, until she was sure she would be greeted by soft curls of hair. 

“If things go too far or you want me to stop just say: ‘Peach Currant’.” Mercedes stayed her hand; choosing to delay Byleth’s and her own enjoyment. 

“Same as always.” 

Byleth’s body tensed as Mercedes slapped her on the thigh. “Don’t be smarmy,” Mercedes chided her. 

Mercedes forced her down onto the bed hard and pinned her there, her knee on the mattress between her wife’s legs. Byleth gasped into the pillow, struggling light as Mercedes straddled her and pressed her thighs against the sides of Byleth’s ass. Mercedes ran her hand down the side of her stomach before reaching under and running her fingers across the subtle ripples of Byleth’s abdominal muscles. Her hand moved to tease its way down her spine before Mercedes began to dig her nails in and trace raised red welts down Byleth’s back. 

A soft, throaty sound that was somewhere between a moan and purr came from a place deep inside of Byleth. 

It was dark enough that it was hard to tell if she drew blood, but there would definitely be welts. Bruises, teeth marks, a sting on the butt from a sufficient spanking—these things weren’t uncommon and afterward Mercedes would heal them as they cuddled entangled in the bed. 

Mercedes ran her nails up until she could slide her fingers into Byleth’s hair. She grabbed it close to scalp, tugging until Byleth’s back arched and her stomach dug down into the mattress. 

“Are you okay?” Mercedes asked. 

“Yes.” 

With her free hand, Mercedes cupped Byleth’s breast, her fingers passing over the peak of both nipples before she grasped them and held for a moment.

Byleth let out a strained grunt, her breathing becoming rushed and desperate. They played for a while with Mercedes testing that boundary between pain and excitement until Byleth wrestled control away from Mercedes. She got herself onto her back, scooped Mercedes up by the thighs and pulled her onto a position where she was almost straddling her face. And then she was. 

Mercedes’s body swirled with warmth, her hips bucking and the muscles tightening in her pelvis as she rode Byleth’s face. Her hair flopped around and got into her face, not that it matter much because the room was still dark that she could barely make out where the wall was in front of her. 

Then Byleth pressed her fingers up against the space just above her opening; she thumbed at her clit and Mercedes chirped in gleeful shock before slapping hand to her mouth. 

Mercedes came, her body trembling with her hand clutched over her lips. Every fiber of her being seemed to be shaking and she thought she heard some something, there was a flash of light bright enough to reach her eyes though they were closed. Had she imagined it? Was it lightning? Was Byleth just that good?

“Quickly, we need to—“ For a split second she didn’t recognize the voice, her body stiffened in shock as she turned back. Hubert? 

“Whoa, I’m seeing a lot more than I ever expected to see.” Hilda said. She was next to him, with Claude on her other side. And on Hubert’s opposite side stood Flayn and Dedue. 

“Hilda?” Byleth’s scream was muffled under Mercedes. 

Mercedes who didn’t hear the next several things that were said as she rolled herself off of Byleth and pulled the covers from the edges of the bed up onto them both. She let out a small scream. “What—how did you get in here?” She asked. The flash of light before had to have been a teleport spell. In the excitement of her climax she had thought it was just some strange sensory thing, but it was a physical happening in the room around her. 

“A teleportation spell of my own devising,” Hubert said. 

Byleth sat up, her rob had been mostly removed in the fray and she pulled them back over herself, clutching them tight to keep them closed. “Cute. Looks like it works well enough, but did you have to bring half of the 1180 graduating class in here with you?” She asked. 

“Our apologies Professor Byleth,” Flayn said. “We did not mean to see what we shouldn’t have, indeed, we did not expect you to be awake—not that anything we saw was bad. It seemed to be a wonderful display of love and affection. I, no wait…” 

“It’s probably half passed three in the morning, we’ve got a mission in a few hours, and I was trying to relax with my wife on my face like I like I enjoy doing,” Byleth said. 

Mercedes could feel a heat in her body at the mention of what they had been doing as if all of her were blushing.

“And then a gaggle of my former students bursts in here using a teleport spell,” Byleth continued, “all I have to say is this better be really good, otherwise I’m going to light your asses up like Ailell.” 

“Calm down, Teach. Something big is happening and we came to you because we aren’t sure who else to trust,” it was Claude who spoke, his cool demeanor seemingly unshaken by all that was going on. “Dimitri and Edelgard are missing. They were last seen early tonight but they left and never returned. We’re trying to keep things quiet, have the school searched without arousing suspicion, but…” 

“We fear that something awful may have happened,” said Dedue. 

Byleth leaned over and kissed Mercedes before getting out of the bed. She walked to a table where there was a basin of water and washed her face and hands clean in it. “I swear, I’ll never be through saving that girl…Let me get dressed,” Byleth said. 

“I’m coming with you,” Mercedes said. 

“You have a mission to lead at dawn.” 

“It won’t be the first time I had very little sleep and if I stay here I’ll just be worried and awake,” Mercedes said as she pulled the covers around herself like a robe and climbed out of bed. 

Mercedes turned to the crowd gathered in their room. “Could we get some privacy, please?” 

“Yeah, out. Now,” Byleth said. 


	14. The Whitest Lace

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long gap between this and the last chapter. Things have gotten really crazy with the COVID-19 panic and it left me feeling unable to really work out how to write anything at all or really do much besides play video games and lay there staring at the ceiling. I hope all of your who read this are doing find and that you and yours are safe and healthy.

He found Rhea in the Cathedral standing beneath the statues of the four saints, standing near his statue. It was jarring to even think that, he had separated himself so far from the person of Cichol that the only part of him that remained was his love for Flayn and his love for his late wife. Their survival had depended on it for centuries. 

Seteth’s steps echoed off of the stone walls of the empty Cathedral; he made no effort to conceal his presence from Rhea though she didn’t acknowledge him. With his hands clasped in front of him he came to a stop several feet back from where she was staring at the statue. Her robes and all the ornamental dressings that she usually wore were gone. For some reason she looked softer like this, younger. 

Rhea looked the way he had remembered his younger sister. Her green eyes seemed glimmered with the flickers of candlelight. When she finally turned to face him there was a subtle smile on her face. 

“Seteth.” 

“Rhea. I trust you have heard of what took place?”

“The disappearance of Edelgard’s baby and Hanneman’s injuries; the Gate Keeper informed me upon my return.” 

“And where did you go?” 

“I was in town. There was something I had to attend to.” 

“We are forced to lie for our survival, I would appreciate the reassurance that we were at least able to be honest with each other.”

Rhea narrowed her eyes. “When was the last time you spoke of her as your mother? When did you last call me sister, even in your heart.” The words were spoken so light he wondered if his guilt caused him to imagine them. 

“You know why that is. There’s a person who is dear to me that I stand to lose if…I can’t go through that again,” Seteth said. 

“You won’t have to,” Rhea said. 

“A dark maelstrom whirls around Garreg Mach shrouding nefarious deeds from us. I fear that the Western Church, the enemies we saw five years ago and the ones we saw today are part of something we’re blind to and therefore not ready for,” Seteth said. 

“Humanity has been at odds in Fódlan for the better part of a millennium, you know that as well as I.”

Seteth pressed one hand to his forehead, shaking his head. “To hear Byleth and Mercedes describe it, the person wasn’t human.” 

Rhea turned her body slightly, the fabric of her white dress swaying around her as she stopped. Her eyes were fixed on them, her eyebrows slightly elevated with interest in what he might say next. “What do you mean?” 

“They say the person looked like Monica von Ochs, but that she transformed,” said Seteth. 

“The way that Thomas did,” Rhea said. 

Seteth nodded. “From the descriptions given by Jeralt, Byleth, and Mercedes it would appear so. One has to wonder if they ever knew the real Monica.” 

Rhea went silent, her eyes flicked from side to side as if she were piecing something together, visualizing it. “She was gone for one year and people who knew her said she acted like a new person. I assumed that she was trying to put the experience behind them, but she was never herself.”

“Yes. Someone placed two spies right in front of us and we never noticed it until it was too late. There could be more and they could be anyone from the sound of things,” said Seteth. 

“We could separate out anyone that we know to be themselves, knights and clergy who have a distinct behavior and have not vanished from long stints of time…” 

“Dorothea devised what we think may be a method of detection in some cases,” said Seteth. 

Rhea’s eyes narrowed. “Dorothea.” 

“Yes, is that a problem?” 

“You know very well that it is,” said Rhea. 

“Frankly, Rhea, I don’t see that it is any of your business.” 

“Have you had relations with her?” 

“Excuse me?” 

“Does she know the truth? I’m sure that it would be hard to conceal that if she and you have…” 

Seteth cut her off. “…we haven’t engaged in intercourse—not that you have any right to know. She doesn’t know the truth, though it’s not because I don’t trust her.”

He couldn’t be sure what his sister thought of him anymore, in their current forms there was nothing to distinguish them from the average human—other than their ears. Their lobes connected and didn’t hang down and at the top their ears rose into a point. They hid this with their hair from most people, but there was a heightened risk of intimacy with people because of this. 

“She made a suggestion that we use people who have crests to our advantage. These doppelgängers seem to be unable to use the crest of a person they copied, lending more credence to the idea that they are not controlling the person, but creating a new version of them. If we know someone has a crest we can use that as proof they are themselves.”

Rhea nodded. “Still, it is a method of detection that Dorothea herself would be immune to. She is crestless.”

Seteth cleared his throat, trying to maintain the level of calmness that dealing with Rhea often demanded. “She also has not been away from the school without one of us for a day since she was hired on to the staff. She has been a model instructor and her personality is unchanged.”

“We are not even sure if there is a change,” Rhea said. “It could be that this is some manner of possession or that the body of one is infected with an aliment that allows them to be controlled.”

“Still, there has been no change in Dorothea and in the past the individual has exhibited changes in personality.” 

The door to the Cathedral sent a shuddering echo through the massive gallery area as it was opened. This time of night it wasn’t unheard of for someone to come to pray or for one of the clergy to be taking a walk. Seteth touched Rhea at the shoulder, motioning for her to stay put. 

Before he had fully reentered the main part of the Cathedral he could hear footsteps and voices echoing through the antechamber at the far end. “It’s no trouble at all,” the man said. Seteth thought he recognized the voice, but there were so many voices over so many centuries that he couldn’t be sure. 

“Thank you,” The female’s voice was soft, her name was right on the tip of Seteth’s tongue. 

As Seteth emerged from the statue chamber he spotted the pair at the far side of the Cathedral. 

“Volkhard von Arundel. Lady Marianne. This is a pleasant surprise,” he said. 

“Hello,” Marianne said with a curt bow. 

“Seteth, how long has it been?” Said Lord Arundel. 

“Some years. I was, unfortunately unable to travel into the Empire for your nuptials, but I pray that the gift we sent was received in time,” Seteth said. 

“It was,” Marianne said. “It has been truly a blessing having Dorte around.” 

Volkhard nodded. “She loves the beast more than me, I fear,” he said, his hand massaging Marianne’s slender arm. 

Volkhard von Arundel should, by Seteh’s estimate, have been in his forties. It wasn’t uncommon for older men to marry younger women, especially when there was some political advantage to be gained. The thing was that Regent Arundel didn’t looked almost exactly as Seteth remembered him form years before. 

He let the thought pass quickly enough. “What brings youth the Cathedral,” he asked. 

“My darling wife has it in her to thank the Goddess for safe passage to the Monastery. We will be heading to sleep momentarily,” Volkhard said, he grasped Marianne at the shoulder with one hand and with the other he smoothed her cornflower hair down against the side of her head. Something about the way that his hand moved, how his face was frozen in a perfect smile, how his eyes shimmered—it set off a brief alarm in Seteth’s head. 

His conversation with Rhea had put him in such a state that he was beginning to see suspicion where ever he turned. 

“I will let you worship in peace, I have matters to which I still must attend,” Seteth said. 

* * *

* * *

It had been Claude who found the first body. He had followed a trail of flattened stalks of grass and snapped twigs to a slumped over corpse with an axe buried in the chest. Byleth and Hilda were at his side with their torches held high, while the others hung back and with eyes on the darken forest outside of the reach of the torches. They were past where the old chapel had been, past the Millennium Celebration fairground and banquet hall and dormitories. 

Byleth glanced back toward the banquet hall that stood in the distance to where the small group of horses they had bought waited. Many of the structures in this part of campus were new or renovated, but there was something very unnerving about this part of campus. There always had been. 

So much of her life had been within the walls of the monastery that areas often stoked emotional responses in her that she couldn’t trace. The Goddess Tower was meant to be a solemn place of ritual and tradition, but it would always be the place that Byleth shared her first kiss with her future wife. 

They were at the edge of where the campus restoration projects had stopped, this place with the crumbling ancient buildings that seemed to predate any history that people still spoke of. It was hard to tell in with the lack of light, but she remembered fighting here side by side with her students and her father and mother. 

“There was a fight here,” Byleth mouthed the words, not even sure she had said them out loud. 

“Um, yeah, Teach,” Claude said. 

“I meant back then, when I was…” Byleth started, but was cut off. 

“There’s more bodies over this way,” Claude’s eyes were trained on the ground ahead of them and he traced a path through the underbrush ahead with his index finger. “The person who did this had come through here,” said Claude. “Judging by that axe, I would guess it was Edelgard.” 

“Can we be sure?” Mercedes asked. 

“Judging by the size of the footprint and the stance it seems to fit with a woman her size and weight. Then there’s the second person who was with her…” 

“I’d say he’s pretty sure,” Byleth said with a hand on her hip. “He’s better at this than most.”

Claude rubbed a hand across the back of his head, ruffling the shorter hairs just at the top of his neck. “Come on,” he started, “You going to give away all my secrets.”

“I don’t think anyone could know all your secrets,” said Hilda. 

Hubert has been following the path where Claude pointed out the flattened grass. “This person indeed fell by Lady Edelgard’s hand,” Hubert said. “And these under garments made from the whitest lace. I would recognize them anywhere.” He stooped down over the crumpled white underwear laying in the underbrush. 

“Not sure I know my own panties as well as Hubert knows Edelgard’s. Maybe someone else should hold those…” Hilda said. 

Hubert glared at her. 

Flayn shook her head. “What are you saying happened—do you think someone did something to Empress Edelgard?” 

Claude looked to Hilda and then sighed. “I don’t think that’s it at all, but we need to find them. Fast.” 

“Why? Are there more attackers?” Dedue asked. 

“There were,” Claude pointed to a lifeless form a few feet away in a spot of moonlight. 

Byleth jogged over to where the body was and held the torch down close. She couldn’t see the person’s face as they wore a mask with a long beak protruding from it. The hair was a faded white and the body looked emaciated. The dead soldiers uniform ignited a memory in Byleth. 

“This garb—it’s the same as the soldiers who accompanied the Death Knight and the ones who attacked during the Rite of Rebirth,” said Byleth.

“The Death Knight?” Mercedes said. “And it was an ambush.”

Hilda shrugged. “Yeah, literally caught with their pants down…” 

“If you have some theory you would like to share Lady Goneril, I suggest you be less cryptic and share with the rest of us,” Hubert said. 

“If I didn’t know any better I would think that was some kind of a threat?” Hilda said. 

“Children, please,” Byleth chided them. She glanced around the field, as if looking for something long forgotten. “Hubert, remember five years ago, we fought in this exact spot.” 

Hubert rested his chin on the side of one hand. “Yes, there were beasts here attacking students. I recall that Captain Jeralt and Lady Sitri assisted us.” 

“If I recall, Professor, it was right after the White Heron Cup—we’ve returned almost five years to the exact day,” Flayn said. 

Byleth readied her spear, clutching it tight by her chest. “Keep your wits about you—there’s too many coincidences here. I don’t like it.” She stalked forward through the darkness with her spear drawn back and a torch in her off hand. 

“We should fetch the horses. It’s unlikely they changed direction after picking a heading and they’ve got a head start on us,” Claude said. 

* * *

* * *

The fire that coursed through their veins, keeping them pushing forward could only have burned at that intensity for so long. Their desperate need to find the culprits of so many of the last decade’s tragedies was up against the sheer exhaustion of the kind of day that seemed to last forever. 

In the silence of the ever thickening woods Edelgard felt her skin grow cooler, she was suddenly aware of how fast things had changed, of how long they must have been gone. There would be light on the horizon soon. A search party would go out to track down a cure for Hanneman and if the others hadn’t noticed already, a discovery would be made about them going missing. 

Maybe they should have turned back, but the time for that kind of rational thinking passed long before they went this far.

A smoky smell filled the air, first it was faint and then it grew thick and weighed down each breath they took. Edelgard paused, resting against the axe she had stolen. “A cooking fire?” 

“It could be someone attending the festivities,” Dimitri said. 

“No one would have entered from this side of campus and anyone who didn’t wouldn’t be allowed to stay back here. The Knights would never allow it.” 

“You say that as if the Knights are above being paid off or even being coconspirators,” Dimitri said. 

Edelgard glared at him. “You would think that the Knights would seek to destroy the church from within? That’s a bold claim.” 

“I see no man as being above suspicion in all of this, after all, the mother of my child was manipulated into working with these same people,” he said, staring her down. 

“Look, my world was burning down around me and I didn’t realize I had any other avenue. My family was left powerless and there seemed to be no shortage of enemies everywhere I turned. I wanted to destroy these people as much as I needed their resources to fuel my own campaign,” Edelgard explained. 

“That is my point, we don’t know what desperate measures these people might be taking advantage of,” Dimitri said. 

“There’s enough smoke around that it seems the fire is large which means it might be for a larger host,” Edelgard said. “We need to get closer.” 

Dimitri peered through the darkness, pointing at something ahead. “I could hoist you up onto my shoulders and let you peek out over these rocks. We could use them for cover…” 

“Just be careful, please,” Edelgard said, her cheeks burning hot all of a sudden. 

“What? Is this your fear of heights manifesting itself?” 

“Not exactly. Before we fought off those attackers we had been in the middle of…and well, I might have left a certain undergarment behind.” 

“Oh.” 

“Yeah. We can still do this. I just wanted to warn you.” Edelgard stalked forward more. 

Dimitri stifled a laugh. “My apologies, my timing is questionable, but I cannot help but think you’re all too cute when you’re flustered. It was the thing that made me first realize how hard I had fallen for you in school.” 

“Look, you’re making this worse,” Edelgard said. “Just stoop down so you can pick me up. We need to see how many are over there so we decide how best to attack.” 

Dimitri dropped to one knee next to the rocks and Edelgard scrambled up onto a low rock and used that boost to get onto Dimitri’s back. As she settled in to sit atop his shoulders, Edelgard became very aware of how close the back of his neck was to her sex, how the heat of him was licking at her underside with no buffer. 

He brought his hands up, wrapping them around over the tops of her thighs to hold her in place. “I’m going to hoist you up slowly, tap the top of my head to let me know when it’s enough.” 

Edelgard rested her hands in his hair as he got onto both his knees more fully, and them over so that one foot was under him, then the other. He was on his feet with his knees bent then as he carefully pushed back to his regular stature. Edelgard had been staring at the darkened side of a rock when suddenly she saw the glow of fire in the distance with several figures encircling it. There was more than a dozen, easily. And the fire was massive, meaning that any attempt to approach using darkness as cover would fail. 

She tapped at the top of Dimitri’s head to stop him. 

If they went back and tried to get others from the academy to help they would have to explain how they found all of this in the first place and why they were out here. There was also the more pressing risk that by the time she and Dimitri procure help and return that the fire could be extinguished and these people gone. 

If that party that she and Dimitri had wiped out earlier was a scouting expedition, them not returning might cause their comrades to retreat—that’s assuming that these two groups were associated. In a situation like this Edelgard liked to be sure. They were still within the boundaries of Garreg Mach, these people could just be part of a knight patrol.

“What do you see?” Asked Dimitri. 

“Just a moment.” 

The people weren’t conducting themselves like the knights she had seen and there didn’t seem to be much camaraderie among them. No one was talking or engaged with each other. There was almost zero movement. And even when the knights were out on patrols it was standard for them to set up a tent and have horses. She counted the people and tried to take note of their general positioning. 

“Okay,” Edelgard said. 

Dimitri lowered her down, easily lifting her off of his shoulders to help her get down once they were near the ground. Edelgard leaned against the rock, her hands crossed over her lap. “I’m pretty sure those aren’t knights from the church,” she said. 

“What did you see?” Dimitri asked. 

“Twenty three of them are down there. I suspect that some might not be where we can see from here. All of them well armed, but mysteriously without horses which I have never known patrols here to do. There’s also no base camp, just a fire.” 

“Small force, traveling light. Was there much in the way of gear around?” 

“Just weapons and some some scant supplies.” 

“What are you thinking?” Asked Dimitri.

“Same thing I imagine you are—this isn’t the main force.”

Dimitri nodded. “They sent a small contingent of troops in to set up a small staging area. There could be multiple patrols working from right here in this spot inside the Monastery walls. 

“We can draw them off in small groups, thin their numbers and increase our chance of this playing out evenly by getting them to fight us out here away from the light,” Edelgard said. 

Dimitri clutched her shoulder, pulling her to face him slightly. “There was an old bard who used to happen by my home in the capitol. He sang a song of his own devising, I’ll never forget the general idea of it: you have to know when to hold them, know when to fold them, know when to walk away, and know when to run…this is one of those times, Edelgard.” 

“I’m not even sure what you’re talking about, but it doesn’t really seem to make sense with what we’re going through here.” 

Pressing his face into her neck, he kissed her right in the spot where her neck curved down into her shoulder. “We have an obligation to stay safe for the sake of the daughter we share…and our respective kingdoms…” 

It was rare that either of them spoke so candidly about Greta’s parentage in public. Even when they were sure no one would be close enough to hear them. 

I can’t think straight when I am with you and I am sure that you feel the same,” Dimitri said drinking the smell of her in. 

“If we leave we risk losing track of them. I can assure you that if we come back in twice as many hours as it took us to get here initially there will be nothing left except the signs of a camp fire,” Edelgard said. 

Dimitri reached up to cover her hand with his. “Then we find a way to watch them, discover all we can while we’re here and make sure that this doesn’t go to waste.” 


	15. Revelations in the Mist

“It is almost time to begin,” the woman inside of her spoke with a yawn, stretching out her arms wide to either side of the throne that she sits atop in a room that seems to glow with a strange dark green light. It’s a room that exists in the waking world, far below the monastery, but this version feels different. Feels alive. 

The woman on the throne looks stares at her through impossibly green eyes, her pale skin radiant. Her only clothes are a thin, threadbare regalia adorned with dangled bobbles and beads. She yawns, using her free hand to cover her mouth and then, using the same hand, fluffs her feathery green hair. 

A sword, hewn of worn, ancient bone lays across the arm rest of the throne and is clutched down by the woman’s other hand. Though this is just a dream, of sorts. 

The real Sword of the Creator is entombed deep below ground, hidden away from the world. No one hand laid eyes on it in a few years and perhaps this dream would feel odd to Sitri, if it wasn’t the only dream she ever had. 

“How long did we sleep this time?” Asked the woman on the throne.

“I’m still sleep.” Sitri can feel her body standing in this space, looking up at the woman. They look similar enough, almost the same shade of hair, the same eyes, the woman on the throne is more shapely, taller, her hair more full and wild. She pays no mind to how much of her body is showing, nor does she care about the things some of her posturing on the throne conveys. 

“You’re partially awake. Awake enough for me to see. Jeralt is looking at us. He’s touching our cheek.” 

Sitri felt the warm, rough fingers gliding over her cheek and pushing hair back out of her face. She knew that she must be smiling, at least outwardly. That reaction was usually out of her control when it came to Jeralt. 

“Stop grinning,” the woman said. “We need to get the Abyss Library today. Before the campus is up moving around.” 

“Today?” Sitri said. “Even if Mother isn’t back Seteth will surely be on the prowl.” 

“Then you will need to find a way to deal with him…ooo.” 

“What?” 

Sitri feel something graze her stomach. Tasted a faint, familiar taste in her mouth. 

“Jeralt is kissing us. I wonder if this is a good morning kiss or him wanting a little something—“

“—okay, I’ll find a way to get us to the library. Just stop being gross.” 

“How am I being gross. The man is attractive.” 

“Because he’s technically your grandson-in-law!” 

“So?” 

“Sothis, please.” 

“Sothis please what. Hey. Oh you better not be doing what I think you’re doing. Not now. No!” In an instant the chair that the woman was sitting on before Sitri was catapulted back through the darkness with unimaginable speed until it and Sothis faded into the darkness of her mind. 

A faint voice could be heard echoing. “You can’t keep me suppressed for long. Sitri!” 

“Sitri. Love?” Jeralt was speaking very close to her face. 

She blinked. “Sorry.” Sitri let out a small, strained laugh. “Good morning.” 

“Morning. You were just staring at me for what seemed like a really long time,” Jeralt said, his fingers brushing their way through the hair on the side of her cheek. 

“Must have bene sleeping with my eyes open again.” Sitri lifted herself up to kiss Jeralt. He pulled her, jerked her almost onto him. His other hand wandered the front of her body, creeping lower down past her diaphragm to her naval toward her…

She grabbed hold of his hand, catching him on either side at the pinky and index finger. Sitri kissed his face. “Do you think this appropriate given all that’s going on right now?” 

“What? With Hanneman and Manuela?” He asked. 

“Of course.” 

“I’m not worried. You know why? Because they put your daughter and her wife in charge of sorting this whole mess out. Those two can do anything. When was the last time you saw Byleth leave something unsolved?” Asked Jeralt. 

Sitri sat up in the bed, pulling away from Jeralt’s grasp. She righted the left strap of her night gown. “I don’t know. I’ve seen Byleth swap her boots for ones in the armory because she didn’t want to clean them before. A month ago I found her passed out in the green house.” 

“Then I taught her well: it’s the best place to sleep when you’re hung over and can’t get up the stairs. You won’t get rained on.” 

“That’s not funny.” 

“Mercedes is there to keep her straight, but our daughter is definitely capable. Hyper capable of taking care of something like this.” 

Sitri got up from the bed and went toward the large wardrobe off to one side of the room. It was old and worn from time in the sun and winters exposed near the window. She had used the old thing ever since she could remember. 

“You’re in a rush.” 

“I just…have something I need to look into.”

“Something secretive? That’s your secret voice.” 

“Hush. Look, don’t mention it to Mother. I just need to go to the Abyss before anyone is awake to see me. Can you make sure I’m not missed?” Asked Sitri. 

Jeralt stepped out of the bed, writhing his hands together. “Are we doing this again?” 

“I never stopped. You were content to listen to Mother’s words and take them as truth. I need answers.” 

“What is there to answer?” 

“How old are you, Jeralt?” 

“Sitri.” 

“You’re right on the cusp of being a silver-fox, a very…very sexy silver fox, but you’ve looked this age since I was a teenager. You looked this age when I married you and now…”

“You know that it’s hard for me to count anymore.” 

“How old is my mother? Why does she look twenty-five when she’s supposedly older than you?” Sitri asked. “I’ve gone through documents so old that the writers hadn’t mastered binding books yet—they were still on scrolls and do you know that there’s different names here and there, but sometimes I swear the way one of the people writes the ’T’ or the little flourish after the ’S’—it’s my mother’s handwriting.” 

“I’ve told you when and where I was born Sitri. I’ve been completely truthful with you. I always have.” 

“And I told you that village has been gone for over as hundred years. Doesn’t that make no sense to you?” She was whispering now. “Doesn’t that make you question how you can be…like this?” 

“It’s a blessing. Your mother saved me. I can’t explain what she did or where the learned it, but the only reason I was able to meet you is because she kept me alive long enough,” Jeralt said. 

“Who is my father, Jeralt?” 

“I don’t know.” 

“You had to have been there when I was born. You never saw my mother involved with a man or heard her speak of anyone? It seems odd that Mother would involve herself in flings, especially ones that her trusted knights would have no knowledge of.” 

“What are you hoping to find? What do you think there is to look for?” 

“The truth.” 

Sitri turned back to the wardrobe and sifted through her clothes in a hurry to find an inconspicuous grayish-green habit with gainsboro accents and a matching shawl. She wiggled out of her night clothes and deposited them into a dirty clothes basket near the door of the room. 

She dressed in a hurry, pulling the shawl around herself. She pulled her hair back over the top of her shoulders and let out a small sigh. “I just need to know what’s going on and I need to know who I am.” 

“I understand. I just. I don’t want you to stumble on something that makes you hate yourself,” Jeralt said. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist, bring his hands to rest on the rise of her hips.

She craned her neck to look up at him and when he glanced down at her, she kissed him on the lips. “I’ll be back soon,” she said breaking away. 

Sitri had turned to walk to the door when there was a loud pounding at the door that seemed to shake the whole wall on that side of the room. She paused and glanced to Jeralt. 

“Lady Sitri. Lady Sitri. Are you there?” There was a shaking, nervous voice at the door. She recognized it as Elise von Nohr, the young healer from the Black Eagle House.

Her mind raced, thinking about what this could be about at this time in the morning as she walked toward the door. Just before she got there the realization hit her. There was only one thing going on around the Monastery that could cause this level of panic. 

Sitri pulled the door open, standing in the crack so as to block Jeralt. “Is it Hanneman? What’s happened?”

Elise’s purple eyes were wide with fright. “He’s stopped breathing. Manuela is trying to do something. She needs yo—“

Sitri pushed through the door, cutting Elise off. “Run and get Mercedes. I’ll meet you both there!”

“She’s not in her room. Neither is Byleth.”

Right. They were supposed to be going to find some way help Hanneman this morning, they must have left early. She didn’t have time to look into it. She and Elise raced through the stone corridors of the monastery, headed for the stairs to the third floor where Rhea had insisted they keep Hanneman. 

* * *

* * *

Dorothea paced back and forth in front of the small cluster of students that had assembled outside of the homerooms of the three houses. Despite it being earlier than most morning drills would have even taken place she still looked completely put together. Growing up poor and had taught her to always step out of the door looking her best, because that was the first thing that people use to judge someone. 

She searched the edges of the parade ground for Seteth. He was supposed to be returning soon, but she couldn’t stall any longer. They were beginning to grow restless. 

“We were determined to see to it that Professor Hanneman was taken care of. You don’t seem to be all that worried about what will happen to him. None of the staff here do,” said Mae. “Is the millennial celebration really that important?” 

Dorothea sighed. “To me personally, not actually, but there are thousands of people spaced out around the monastery and many of those are very devout. If we skimp on the celebrations to search for some way to save Hanneman there’s some fear that we could be looking at an uproar,” she said.

“It seems like that would be the same thing that would happen if we allowed one of the school staff to perish during a celebration on school grounds,” Lucina’s voice was clear. The girl had a determination and work ethic well beyond almost anything Dorothea had ever seen. It certainly seemed to rival Edelgard’s from when she was attending the academy. 

“We can’t exactly let you roam free with weapons exacting revenge on school grounds,” Dorothea said. “Especially with guests around.” 

“With all do respect Professor Arnault we’re not children who can’t be left unsupervised. We’re the most advanced class at an academy of war and leadership. _Most_ here are the future heads of houses and the nobles of tomorrow. I know you’re of low blood. There are just some things a commoner can’t be expected to understand,” said Clair. 

Dorothea glared at her. “High blood or low blood, your bodies would rot at the same speed.”

“Trouble with the children, Dorothea?” Felix had slipped in behind her somehow without her hearing him. He sidled up next to her, bumping his shoulder against her as he moved. 

“You’ll have to apologize for my retainer, Clair, she can be a bit…passionate,” Lucina said. 

“Blue hair—Lucina, was it? House Lowell? I’ve heard a fair bit about you.” Felix drew his saber from his waist. “How about a duel?” 

“We’re supposed to use practice weapons for…” 

“I am not an academy student nor do I instruct here, do you think the people we’re after will be using blunted wooden weapons? Fight me.” 

Lucina looked to those around her and then stepped out into the center of the grass, drawing her sword. 

“You first,” Felix said. 

She closed in with caution as Felix assumed a defensive stance with his sword aimed up at an angle and his body turned to the side. He pushed his free hand against his back to make himself a smaller target. When she moved in to strike her sword against his, he batted it away and lunged forward to shoulder check her.

Lucina staggered back.

“Again,” Felix said. 

She inched in, only to be caught off guard by his foot and sent tumbling onto her back.

“Again,” Felix barked. 

This time he head butted her before she could even line up to strike. There was a trickle of blood from the cromer of her mouth when she stepped back. 

“Again. Like you’re trying to kill me. Like I’m trying to kill you. Show me what you’re made of.” 

Lucina dove to his side, springing up under and behind him to knock him off balance with her shoulder. When she brought the sword up his was there to meet her. They matched blade for, the metallic ring of sword on sword ringing throughout the space between the buildings.

Felix went low and she hooked her body to the side bringing her sword down to catch his. 

“Good.”

She deflected him back and came down on his upper right side from where she had been on his lower left. He caught sword with his own.

“Good.” 

When Felix pushed her back she opened the space between them, stepping back almost to where the ring of students was gathered around them. Dorothea shouted. “That’s quite enough you two.” 

“Ignore her. Show me what you can really do,” said Felix. 

With a running start she brought the sword down low and crouched. He waited, anticipating what looked like a power swing. Instead Lucina sprung up into the air, bounding over his head with a somersault. She landed at his back and he turned ready to defend. 

And at that moment he heard the familiar hum, felt the charge of magic in the air. Then he heard her voice. “Aero…” 

A memorized spell wasn’t strong enough to hurt him, not from one who was so untrained in general magic use, but she hadn’t aimed it at him. Dust from the ground sprayed up hitting Felix in the face. The sting in his eyes causing him to grab his face and that was enough time for Lucina to act. 

She bashed the flat side of sword against his body sending him careening to the ground. He dropped his weapon and rolled over onto his back still rubbing his eyes. Then he began to laugh with such glee that Dorothea charged over. 

“Did you hit something?” She asked. 

“No,” Felix barely managed through the laughter. 

Lucina sheathed her sword and knelt down to offer her hand to help him up. He grabbed hold of her wrist and she grabbed his, pulling him to his feet. 

“You could have just kicked me over,” Felix said. “But I’ll still count it.”

“Count what?” Dorothea asked. 

“I’ll count it as a fair win for the girl and I’ll aid the school in helping Hanneman by taking these students to find a cure,” said Felix. 

“What?” Lucina asked. 

“I wasn’t going to just volunteer to take a bunch of untested babes with me, but I was getting bored just sitting here doing nothing anyway,” Felix said. 

Dorothea sighed. “I’m not sure that the school will let you take students with you for something like this.” 

“I’m not sure that they can afford not to. Last I heard Hanneman had one foot in the grave. If you choose to nothing now you’re practically killing the man.” 

“Felix!” Came a scream from the breezeway. “Felix Hugo Fraldarius! Just what do you think you’re doing leaving me all alone in that cold bed and slipping out.” 

“You usually sleep in.”

“You usually stay put. I woke up and came to find you and I just knew you were involved when I heard sword noises,” Annette said hurrying across the parade ground. 

Felix stared down at his wife. “You didn’t put on your clothes before coming out. You’re still in that gown.” 

“Huh? Oh. It covers everything. Stop trying to distract me.” Annette said pulling the front of her night gown tighter.

“It covers everything in the dull light in doors. Out here in the sun you can kind of see your nipples.” 

“I have to go!” Annette shouted, scrambling toward the breezeway again. 

Sylvain came clambering through the hedges on the opposite side of the breezeway. “I thought I heard someone talking about nipples!” 

“Before you go,” Felix said to Annette, “And before you get me too distracted,” he said looking at Sylvain—I need you both ready to head out with me.” 

“Head out where?” Asked Sylvain.

“We’re going to save Professor Hanneman and while we’re at it we’re going to bring back answers about the dastards who seem to think they can attack who they please be it Kingdom, Empire, or Alliance…” Felix said. 

“I thought that Byleth and Mercie were doing that…” 

He glanced at Annette, the concern playing across her face was easy for anyone to see. “From what I can gather they haven’t been seen since last night,” Felix said. 

Dorothea nodded. “Along with Hubert, Claude, Empress Edelgard, King Dimitri, Hilda, Flayn, and Dedue,” she said. 

Felix scoffed. “Hilda is missing too? At least that means that no one will be tricked into picking up her slack.” 

“Hey, what if she and the others are in trouble?” Asked Annette rushing back to Felix’s side. 

“Relax. She only pretends to be a dumb bitch. I’d sooner cross weapons with almost anyone else here than actually have to fight Hilda. She’s freakishly strong.” 

“I’ll be sure to tell Lady Hilda you said that,” Dorothea replied. “Look, if you’re going to take a contingent of students with you I might be able to swing something with Rhea and Seteth, but you have to be ready to go now.”

“Where would we even begin the search?” Asked Lucina. 

“The only intelligence we have is of people below the school making use of the network of tunnels there,” said Dorothea. 

“Tunnels below the school? I thought that was just a scary bedtime story.” Annette said. 

“No. They’re real. I can get you access and supplies, but after that you’re on your own,” Dorothea said. 

Felix swept his hair back. “There is one more thing—I can’t take all of you. This operation won’t work like that.” He turned to Lucina. “Pick four other classmates you know we can trust for this. You know them better than I.” 

Lucina nodded. “Cynthia, Camilla, Mae, and Owain—“

“Lady Lowell…” 

“I know what you’re going to say, but I need you to stay here and guard this,” Lucina said before handing off her sword. “I fear that the kind of people we’re facing may have want for it they’re looking into the crests of children and all.” 

“Sis, you almost never go anywhere without the Falchion,” Cynthia said. 

“I can make due as long as I have a sharp blade and someone to stick it in,” Lucina said. 

“Now that’s settled, everyone needs to prepare. My lovely wife will put on her clothes. Sylvain?” Felix said. 

“What?” 

“Tell Ingrid and anyone else that’s still here from our classes to keep an eye on Edelgard’s bastard. Really just any of the noble children. We don’t know if we’re being lured away as some kind of ploy. We need people we can trust here.” 

Dorothea clapped her hands. “Meet me near the dormitories as quickly as possible—I’ll show you the way into the Abyss.”

* * *

* * *

The mist near the ground was thick that Mercedes could have sworn that it muffled the beating of their horses hooves. They had been riding as hard. The sun was just beginning to glow on the horizon and it cause the mist to glow an eerie purple hue. 

Claude was out front with Byleth closely behind. He was the first to speak up when the faint smell of smoke wafted through them, though Mercedes noticed it the moment before he spoke.

“Fire?” He asked. 

“I smell it.” Hubert said. 

When Claude drew the reigns on the horse and stopped, the others came to a stop along with him in a triangle formation. 

“A cooking fire,” Hubert added. “You can that oily fat smell of whatever they cooked.” 

“Let’s hope they cooked something to eat it,” said Dedue. “This has me worried about the King.” 

Hilda grimaced. “Couldn’t it just be the Knights of Seiros out on patrol?” 

Byleth shook her head. “The Knights don’t usually camp within the monastery walls. There’s a keep that they watch the wall from?”

“Maybe some guests got through this far?” 

“We’re really far from the main campus,” said Byleth. “If there’s people on this side of the monastery then they must have gotten past the guard keep…” 

“Shh, we’ve got movement,” Claude said before removing his bow from his back and training it on a spot in the fog. He didn’t call out and kept his aim trained on whoever was coming. 

A darkened mass pulled away from the mist until it could be clearly seen to be the silhouette of a large person holding something in their hand. A familiar voice broke the silence. “Claude? Wow, you’re all here.” It was King Dimitri Blaiddyd clutching a spear. 

Edelgard emerged behind him, an axe held at the ready at her side. She let the weapon sink down into the grass. “I thought that I heard the Professor talking,” she kept her voice low. 

Byleth’s hose shuffled back and forth, seemingly sensing its rider’s unease. “Oh that’s funny, because I thought that we were all supposed to be in bed. What the Hell are you doing, Edelgard?” 

“We were attacked,” said Edelgard.

“Attacked and dragged miles away from the damn school?” Byleth said. 

“She and I were pursuing our…”

Byleth cut Dimitri off. “With all due respect, I wasn’t speaking to you. You weren’t one of my students. I don’t know what Manuela let you get away with, but Edelgard knows better than this and she’s a mother and an Empress with responsibilities, so please let her speak for herself.”

“Why are you acting like this?” Edelgard asked. 

Everyone else was still as if Edelgard’s words had frozen them all in place. “Because Hanneman is dying back at the monastery and I was supposed to be helping find a way to save him. Instead I’m rescuing you. Because I feel responsible for you, Edelgard.”

“I—“

“Claude smelled a fire and we knew something had been burnt on it. I thought maybe someone had burned you at the stake or—I don’t know. We found your underwear and I kept my mouth shut, but I worried someone had done something to you. I didn’t know what happened. I didn’t want to be out here and find out I’d lost you and then go back there and find out I had let Hanneman die too…” 

“Professor.” Edelgard spoke up. 

“Maybe Claude and I should have said something,” Hilda said. 

“Hilda.” Claude cautioned. 

“They’re sleeping together,” Hilda said. “They’ve been sleeping together.” 

Edelgard glared at Hilda and then back at Dimitri. “How does she know that?” 

Dimitri shook his head. “She and Claude figured it out. They confronted me last night at the banquet.”

Flayn froze, her eyes glazing over. “Wait. Does that mean that,” she said before turning to Dedue. “Did you know about this?” 

A coarse scream broke the air. “Hey. A whole group of them over here. Come—“ an arrow through the throat caused his whole body to jerk to the side. He toppled into the grass, his hands locked around the shaft. 

“They’re coming,” Claude said lowering his bow. “We’re going to have to put this on the back burner for now, talk about it later.” 

Hilda slid down off of her horse before pulling at something holstered down the side of the saddle. “Brought you a little gift Edel, just in case we ran into some trouble.” Hilda produced an axe, hefting it up with an ease and familiarity before handing it over to Edelgard. “Going to work way better than that rusted thing you took off some yucky dead guy.” 

Dedue lifted a wrapped bundle of cloth from the side of his horse. “This is for you, my Lord,” he said handing it carefully to Dimitri who took the object from him with a reverence as a look of familiarity passed over his face. He undid the cloth to reveal Areadbhar, his holy relic spear. 

All around them the fog was alive with the noises of these people advancing on them. There were rough shouts, hollering, and the sound of boots in the mud. Byleth and Mercedes dismounted. Dedue was already down on the ground and helping Flayn. They could easily be surrounded here, but the fog provided a kind of equalizer because just as they couldn’t easily judge the enemy numbers they also couldn’t be seen. 

“Flayn and Mercedes, keep to the center. Hubert, you too. Everyone else stick close, don’t let them break through.” Byleth stooped down and scooped up the axe that Edelgard had dropped only to fling it into the fog in a quick motion. It buried itself in the chest of one of the attackers. She then drew her sword ready to take on who ever came. 

As the members of all three of the houses they had fought separately and practiced fighting against each other, but many of them had never been in a real battle together. From the synergy that they displayed dispatching the scouts or whatever these troops were you would have never known. 

Byleth battered two of the attackers back with heavy swings, knocking a man off balance before burying her sword in his shoulders. Another man broke through a small gap left between Dedue and Hilda; he lunged for Hubert only to be stopped by an arrow Mercedes fired. 

“Oh! Did I get him?” Mercedes shouted excitedly. 

Claude and Hilda hadn’t actually been able to fight together in years, but it wouldn’t have been apparent to an outsider with the way that the two paired. 

Hilda danced between two rouges with daggers, bringing her axe down in the middle of one’s skull and ducking under the attack of the other. 

“I’ve got this one,” Claude yelled before firing an arrow into the other man. He toppled back. Despite the initial plan of how to stay grouped, the fog had made movement in relative to others difficult. Sounds of metal clashing and seemed to come from everywhere at once. Then a fireball came hurtling out of the mist, narrowly missing Claude and Hilda before exploding on a tree. 

Hubert called out. “Was any body hit by that?” 

They answered in turn, their voices chiming in when their present engagements allowed. A blast of wind swirled through the mist, cutting a path and catching Hilda off balance Hilda, just after she spoke. She stumbled backwards, burying the head of her axe in the ground to catch herself. “Claude, sweetie.”

“I’m on it.”

Claude charged toward Hilda as she held Freikugel out horizontally to the side. Claude leaped onto the head-end of the axe and Hilda braced and then lifted up giving him a boost and then swung Freikugel down into the ground just as the head of the axe began to glow like an ember. 

Freikugel smashed into the dirt sending out a wave of heat and energy burrowed a clear tech through the fog and mist revealing their target. From higher up and with the fog pushed aside, Claude could spot the mage. He loosed his arrow just before dropping back down for Hilda to catch him in her arms, dropping her axe in the process. 

“I think I’m falling for you, Hilda.” 

She opened her grasp and let him fall into the dirt before hefting her axe. 

“That’s no way to treat a fella,” Claude said. 

“Shut up and fight, you two,” Byleth was at his side, hefting him up onto his feet. 

Hubert, Flayn, and Mercedes in from the rear. 

“Group up!” Yelled Hilda. “Oh my voice, everyone.” 

An enemy soldier was sent flying out of the fog as Dedue stepped out, battering another enemy with punches. 

Edelgard was fighting her way back toward the rest of the group when Flayn called out. “Edelgard, behind you!” Flayn brought her hands around from her sides to flatten them palms together in front of her sending out a blade of air. Edelgard leaped over it, twisting her body in the air to keep her momentum and letting the air pass under her and cut into the soldiers behind her. 

“It’s just like the old days,” Edelgard said glancing to Flayn. 

Dimitri pushed through the dense fog, with Areadbhar brandished out in front of him. A lifeless corpse dangling from his spear’s tip. He flung the man down, stepping on one of his arms in an effort to free his weapon. 

“Look out, my Lord!” Dedue yelled. Two figures were approaching Dimitri from behind when a pair of rapid, well-placed fireballs set them ablaze and sent them tumbling back into the foggy forest. 

“The fog is making this fight much more difficult,” Flayn said. 

Dedue nodded. “It is nearly impossible to tell if we face fifteen enemies or one hundred.” 

“Wait, that assignment in the Kingdom…” Edelgard said. 

“What?” Asked Dimitri.

“When Lord Lonato Gaspard rebelled,” Edelgard said. “He used a mage to create mist and mask his small forces. It was one of our first battles with the Professor, but it proved to be difficult only because of the fog.” 

Byleth nodded. “All we have to do is find that mage.” 

“I have a better idea,” Mercedes said. “We start a fire.” 

“No,” Hilda started. “That seems like it will work, but the fog is only here because there’s a lot of dew in the air, the fire will free up more steam, plus the smoke will mix with it and make it hard for us to breathe and low visibility further,” she explained. 

Everyone stared at Hilda.

“What? I know things. A lot of House Goneril’s land is pastures and a lot of the time there’s fires on them.”

Mercedes shook her head. “Even then, I wasn’t hoping to disperse the fog. It’s magic, it could just be put back. The fire is to force them to drop the spell. If they can’t see they run the risk of getting surrounded and trapped.” 

“That is really devious,” Hubert said with a smile.

“But how do we start the fire fast enough—“ Dedue started to ask, but before he could finish the sentence Mercedes spread her arms wide and a circle of energy erupted out from where she stood. Flames raced around the ground around their group, spiraling outward and ripping through the underbrush. 

Flayn pushed her way out from the group. “Pardon me, I’ll help the fire along some.” She began to fire out currents of air in multiple directions, spreading the fire. Then the screams started.

Blood curdling cries of people in pain, people shrieking as they flailed about trying to get flames off their person. The mist was orange and pulsing now with the light of the fires that danced round and round in circles. 

Mercedes continued to cast, her arms moving through different casting stances in rapid succession. The ring of flames would pull in toward the group and then ebb back out like the tide. Ripples from the heat rose from the ground, distorting vision. Yet the fog was still in place.

“Mercedes, you shouldn’t hold a spell that long,” Flayn said. 

“Mercedes!” Yelled Byleth.

Mercedes’s stance became weak, her arms started to drop with exhaustion and finally she toppled to one side and Byleth dropped her weapon to catch her. The flames persisted, without Mercedes to guide them they moved on their own, spreading over the ground and underbrush. 

People could be heard running in the distance. Somewhere in the fog someone screamed and called desperately for help. 

With Mercedes cradled against her body, Byleth tapped at the side of her face lightly with her fingers. “Hey. Hey. Are you going to be okay?” 

“Yeah,” Mercedes managed, her body stirred against Byleth’s as if she meant to stand, but then thought the better of it. 

“Gah, th-those bastards!” The voice was much closer than the others. “No. No!” A woman’s scream broke through the air and the flames could be heard growing and roaring around them as if trying to drown out her cry to cover their work. As her screams subsided the fog rolled back, as if sucked up into its source and receded into the burning heap that had once been a mage.

Only a three enemy soldiers were left now. They wore uniforms that didn’t fit with the design conventions of any of the major Houses or countries that Byleth had seen and moreover they were oddly pale with waxy looking, loose skin. Perhaps they could call this a victory now and these people would cooperate. 

“Fights over. Drop your weapons and put your hands up. Mages, cross your arms and grab your elbows,” Byleth said. 

One of the men plunged a dagger into his own neck, managing to pull it across part of the way. Another dove into a nearby fire that was as tall as him. His screams faded quickly. 

The last man moved like he meant to do something, but was obviously hesitant. Claude put an arrow in each of his knees and then one through his hand pinning back to a nearby tree. The man sneered as Claude approached. “You’re coming with us to answer some questions,” Claude said. 

“I’m not telling you anything,” the man spat. 

Byleth stooped down and grabbed a stick and snapped off a length at the thicker of the two ends. She turned to Mercedes. “Can I cut a small piece off of your stole?” 

Mercedes nodded and stepped closer. 

“Is this meant to be some kind of threat?” The prisoner asked. 

After Byleth had hacked away a length of cloth with her knife, she wrapped it around the wood and forced it into his mouth. “No, it’s meant to keep you from biting your own tongue off before we can interrogate you. Now shut up, or I’ll have Hubert replace with cloth with Edelgard’s lace unmentionables.” 

Hubert got in the man’s face. “You should be so lucky,” he sneered. 

“Ew,” Hilda said. “Can we shove something in Huberts mouth too? Just so he can’t talk until we get back?”

“Far be it from you to let anyone else get a word in edgewise,” Hubert said. 

Byleth dragged the prisoner to the ground and out of the grasp of the others, tying him up. “Children please. Let’s put these fires out and get this man back to the monastery. We’ve got a long walk ahead of us.” 


	16. For Whom the Bell Tolls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **House Keeping, Notices, ETC:** I'm still here and working on this, very slowly. I have a lot more time in my day, but I seem to be using my time less wisely now, and the anxiety of everything going on has me tired a lot of the time and sleeping more at odd hours. I am determined to keep working on this, but some minor things have happened here. First, I have been going back and spot editing and making little changes for content. A while back I changed all of the names for Byleth's mom to say Sitri, and more recently I corrected grammar and the like. The other thing I did was update the summary so that it is more in line with the story. I just want people to be on notice of what's going on here. Lastly I want to say stay safe, wash your hands, wear a mask if you have to go out, and thanks for reading!

Though Sothis wasn’t currently speaking, Sitri could feel her spirit stirring. It had taken her over a decade to come to the conclusion that the person inside of her wasn’t some normal thing that everyone felt. She had imagined for a while when she was younger that each person she saw had their own little version of Sothis: a distinct person with a distinct vision for the world inside of them. Perhaps they all had the Goddess herself and they chose to listen to her to differing degrees. 

But Sitri had learned that Sothis was often correct. Her advice had saved Sitri, had helped her avoid danger, had even helped deliver Byleth healthy. 

And though she was still suppressed to some degree she could feel Sothis warning her about something, but what had changed in the room. 

Sitri was in the Rhea’s chamber where Hanneman breathed slow, weak breaths. Elise had left the room and other than that the only change was him. Lord Arundel. 

It was Sitri’s experience that there were people who were just unnerving. She found it more often than not to be men who were slightly older than her who had some degree of inborn authority, which made it less awkward that Arundel would feel this way to her, but the sheer level of alarm bells that he set off in her was the worrying thing. Maybe she could blame this on Sothis, but it might have just been the sheltered life that she had. 

Then Arundel turned to her, his eyes narrow and searching her expression a little too much. She felt Sothis’s spirit darken and at the same time her skin began to crawl. On instinct she leaned away, pressing her hands down to the front of her habit. 

“He seems to be out of the woods,” said Lord Arundel. “The fever and the discoloration will take some hours to disappear, but he should wake up shortly.”

Her urge to be away from him seemed to grow with each passing moment and she could feel Sothis rising in her at the same time. Was it a coincidence? She stepped nearer to the cabinets at the far side of the room. Vials and bottles varying in size lined shelves that set back in a recess created in the wall to hold them. Judging by the labels some of these things shouldn’t have been near each other. 

Sitri turned to face Arundel. 

“I had no idea that you were involved in any kind of involvement in apothecary work. It’s a bit jarring to see a high up lord mixing herbs together or even carrying their own herbs and such.”

Arundel chuckled. “It just so happens that a combination of the things I had on me work for this, the poison is foreign, but it comes from the Kingdom on the other side of Almyra, Boletus. As luck would have it these same ingredients make a tea that helps with the aging process. I have it shipped in to the Empire on a regular basis.” 

“I see.” 

“The weapon used by our would-be kidnapper is also native to Boletus,” said Arundel. 

“We’re lucky to have someone so knowledgeable about all of this here,” said Sitri. 

“Quite.”

This was all wrong, Dorothea and Mercedes had both confirmed it with Elise that the kind of poison that the weapon had caused wasn’t something simply magical. It was dark. Sitri had felt it ebbing through the room and now it was gone. Arundel had gotten rid of it, but he seemed to be lying about his methods. 

Sothis was pushing her throne through the darkness in a room filled with angel deep water. She stopped and climbed into it. “How many times have I told you not to shut me out!” 

“I don’t think we should talk right now,” Sitri whispered in her own head. She noticed Arundel glance toward her at that very moment. 

“Can he…can he hear us?” Asked Sothis. 

“It feels like he can. Shut up before I push you back out of my mind.” 

“Fine you…flat haired hussy!” 

Lord Arundel raised an eyebrow at her. Sitri had to say something out loud. “So you must know Hanneman…from before. In the Empire, right?” 

“We had limited contact, truth be told, but despite his renounced title he is still technically a citizen of the Empire. We must look out for one another,” Arundel said.

Hanneman sucked in a sharp breath, his body jolting against the bed suddenly. He sunk back into the mattress, finally scrambling with his hand across the sheet to try and reach out for Sitri. 

“L-lady Rhea.”

“No, it’s me Sitri, Professor. Calm down, everything is going to be okay.” 

“I need to…I must speak to Rhea, please,” Hanneman said, his voice becoming more clear. 

Sitri moved for the door. “I will try to find her.” 

“What did you see? What happened back there?” Arundel asked. The floor boards creaked as he took slow deliberate steps toward the side of the bed.

Sitri turned back to him, watching from the doorway. 

“What did you see that made that mad woman want to kill you?” Asked Arundel, his hand went into his cloak pocket slowly. 

“I’m going to have to ask you to let him rest, Lord Arundel,” said Sitri. How did he know about the exact nature of what happened. Had it been explained to him elsewhere?

“It didn’t make any sense,” Hanneman said. 

“You should help me out, Lord Arundel. Run and get Professor Manuela…”

“What did you see?” 

“Three Crests…there were three. I don’t understand.” 

Something metallic flashed from the pocket of Arundel’s cloak and Sitri rushed forward. Just then Sothis called out. “He’s got a knife!” 

Everything happened too fast. The knife was drawn out fully and Hanneman tried to raise his hands in defense, though he was so weak. And Arundel turned and brought the knife down in an an arc aimed at her own chest. The blade was entering her skin, there was a hot, sharp pain where metal sliced into her skin, slid inside. 

This was it. 

* * *

* * *

Hilda must have been hot, she took the ties in her hair down as they were walking and quickly worked her hair around her hands and affixed to the top of her head as a tightly rolled, but messy bun. Little pink hairs at the base of her head, just where her neck started, were too short the get wrapped away and they danced out behind her as she moved. 

Claude doubled up on his steps to get closer to her. “If you’re hot we can take a rest. It’s not a huge deal.”

“It’s not even warm out here,” Hilda said. “I think it’s just using this stupid crest and being near all that awful fire.” She sniffed at her hand curiously. 

“Aww, my hair is going to smell like smoke for days now.” Hilda said. 

“Oh, I know how to fix that,” Claude started.

“You do?” 

“Yeah. Tomato and vinegar. You mash it up together and wash your hair with it a few times, then you rinse that out several more times and brush some coconut oil through it.” 

Hilda eyed him for s moment. “You are full of surprises. I’ll give you that.” 

“You think I just wake up every morning looking this good?” 

“Actually, I know you do.” Her cheeks colored furiously and she glanced around to see how far away the others were before turning back to Claude. “What exactly do you see me as?” 

“I’m not sure I understand the question.” 

Byleth and the others were clustered together ahead, their attentions fixed firmly on the prisoner. 

“We didn’t really get to finish that conversation the other day,” Hilda spoke in a voice just above a whisper. “I want to know where we stand, you know with us?” 

“I really want this to be something more…permanent,” Claude said. 

Hilda shrugged. “I think at this point a traditional courtship is out of the question considering that all of this started with me putting your penis in my mouth and will probably end with us back on our respective sides of Fódlan’s Throat.” 

Claude stretched, bringing his arms down and crossing them behind his head. “Nonsense. This thing started when we met before the Academy. I’ve thought about you…differently since then. And I know you’ve always watched me.”

“I was simply more observant than people gave me credit for. You saw through that.” 

“Yeah, I did.”

Hilda glanced at the main group of the party and paused, grabbing Claude by the hand. “But what are you plans for the future. After this magical time of celebration is over?” She asked, her words dripping with sarcasm. 

“What if you came back to Almyra with me, just to see?” 

“See--“ 

The distant, hollow crack of the Monastery bells broke the air. 

Dimitri glanced back as if to see where Claude and Hilda were and then looked to the others. “A new arrival worthy of the bells? This late?” 

“Either that or tragedy struck,” Byleth said. 

“Professor Hanneman, let’s hurry back. Double time,” Mercedes said. 

There had to be more time, right? Something about those bells made a weight sink in the pit of Claude’s stomach. 

* * *

* * *

After the endless flights of stairs they reached a small village nestled in old stone ruins below the monastery. The few people that there were seemed elderly, some were sick, while most of the young had a roughness and age about them that seemed well beyond what it should be. There was very little guard presence. Dorothea had explained to them that these people were under the protection of Lady Rhea and the church. An official in the church saw to it. 

Eyes watched their group warily as they weaved between the merchant stalls of the small underground town. There was a dampness to the air and this age to everything that seemed to predate some parts of the Academy. Camilla had to work her way through the most carefully of all because of her Wyvern, Marzia, needing wing space to pass between the narrow areas between buildings. She opted to just fly. 

Cynthia was having an easier time with Belfire, her Pegasus, with its wings drawn in it was only slightly bigger than a normal horse. 

Mae and Owain were crowded in with Lucina, right behind Dorothea and Felix. Annette was further back, helping the fliers negotiate through the stalls of the town. 

Once they had made their way through the town and out of a long wide set of corridors that seemed to mirror the monastery above (complete with a library, a classroom, and an altar to some long forgotten god) they crossed a bridge that stretched over an underground river, the apparent source of the damp smell. On the opposite side of the bridge stood a wrought iron gate blocking a huge corridor. 

“This is as far as I go,” Dorothea said. 

Lucina was near the lead, just behind where Dorothea had been. “This whole place is amazing. It’s so far below the school that the ceilings of these caverns must be a hundred feet high.” 

“Yeah. I’m not sure if the monastery was built on top of this place for some reason, if this is an older part of whatever the monastery _really_ is, or if this is just some unrelated ancient society. Through this gate, though, is an area not really patrolled by the Church of Seiros.” 

“Haha, I can’t believe that Claude is missing out on this,” Mae said. “He loves secrets. He’s going to be livid.”

Felix looked her over. “Chances are the heir to House Riegan already knows about this place or at least has a passing familiarity,” he said. “There’s no telling what he’s keeping stored in that head of his.” 

Dorothea got brought her face down close to the gate and spoke something in a hushed tone into the very metal. The gate swung open.

“Any chance that you could teach us that trick, Professor?” Asked Cynthia, she was leading her mount by the reigns. She let out an uneasy laugh. 

“Not really, it’s an enchantment that only a few of the staff know, but I will station several guards near the gate here to wait for your return,” Dorothea said. 

“If that’s the truth and there is someone using these tunnels to get around either there are other ways in and out of the Abyss or you little clubhouse code word isn’t as secure as you think,” Camilla said from atop her dragon, she was flying out beside the bridge, but keeping herself level with it. She leaned forward and stroked the side of the dragon’s head lovingly.

Owain brought his hand up over his face dramatically, striking a pose with his fingers spread. “And if there are some manner of brigands down here that trouble these poor souls we shall deliver swift justice!” 

Dorothea shook her head. “I see you kept quiet as long as you could, but I told you at least hold it until we were through the gate.” 

Felix glared at Dorothea. “Is he…simple or something?” 

“Felix!” Annette stomped forward, balling her fist up to punch him in the shoulder. 

“Ow, as mission leader I have a right to know!” 

Lucina shook her head. “He’s a capable fighter, he and my sister are just very excitable. When it’s times to put hands to hilts and pommels they’ll be ready.” 

Felix gave a nod. “Then so are we.” 

“Be careful. I’ll be back here in three hours to see if you’ve returned, but if you’re not back in six I’m sending someone after you.” 

* * *

* * *

“There,” Sothis said. “Aren’t you glad you didn’t push me back now?”

Everything, all motion in the whole entire world seemed to have stopped. The air was stagnant, devoid of heat or cold. The knife was just puncturing into her skin and she could feel it in her, though for some reason it didn’t hurt. A strange purple with translucent hints of color shining through it hung in the air. 

“What is this?” Asked Sitri. “Am I dead?”

“You should be. Or you would have been had I not stopped time.” Sothis said. 

“Since when can you—?” 

“—since always. I never had a need before because you never got us stabbed in our chest!” 

Sitri would have shaken her head could she move. “What now? How is this even possible?” 

“Have you truly doubted the validity of my power this long?” Asked Sothis. “Maybe I should let us get stabbed. End our wretched suffering.”

“Now wait—“

“—or I can move us a few seconds into our past, but you have to figure out a way to steer the course of events,” Sothis said. 

“How far back can we go?” 

“As far as I want, I suppose. But time is not raging river on a set course. If you go back too far and divert the river you’ve no real way of predicting where the water will flow. Best to work as closely to the event we’re trying to change as we can.” 

Now Sitri was standing before Sothis on that stone throne, looking up at the green haired woman who inhabited her. “Can I think on it?” 

“Sure! I’m only holding back the inevitable march of time itself. You could be more impressed you know?” 

“Maybe I’m in shock,” Sitri said. “What if we just go back a few seconds and sock him in the face.” 

“You’re not very strong. You’re more likely to injure yourself with those noodlie little arms.” 

“Then maybe some kind of magic blast?” 

“How about you go back far enough that we can plot a course around conflict?” 

“Right. We don’t even know what all of this is about.” Sitri ran her fingers through her hair like a comb as she thought, although it wasn’t her real hair. Her real body was frozen in time in the real world. That added with the fact that she could just go inside of her own mind and talk with this other version of herself was making her wonder how normal all of this was and if anyone every experienced anything like it before.

“Think back,” Sothis said. “What’s something we did before this. We need a way to get him out of this room. We can’t leave him alone with Hanneman.” 

“You’ve always liked Hanneman,” Sitri said. 

“I think he’s just adorable in an old person sort of way. Anyway, I forbid you to not save him.” 

“Okay, I have something: the herbs and chemicals that Rhea keeps. Some of them are pretty dangerous, I can lure him over to the shelf and spill it on him. He will have to go get cleaned up. Some of the chemicals also might mean we have to relocate Hanneman because they’ll get into the air. Very dangerous to breathe “ 

“You seem to have everything figured out,” said Sothis. “What about that crest thing and Edelgard’s baby?” 

“That’s a lot less important than me desperately trying not to get stabbed, don’t you think?” Said Sitri. 

“Are you ready?” Asked Sothis. 

“Wait, one more thing, once you rewind things try to keep quiet,” said Sitri. 

“Here we go,” Sothis’s voice seemed to echo through the room and in an instant. How far back had they gone. That wasn’t something that they had picked, but now Sothis wasn’t going to speak up. There’s something about how Arundel looks at her.

“The weapon used by our would-be kidnapper is also native to Boletus,” said Arundel.

Sitri took a few shuffling steps. “Well, er—we’re quite lucky to have such an expert here. You probably saved Professor Hanneman’s life.” 

“Hmm, yes.” 

Was that what she said last time? Was that how she responded. The general direction of the conversation wasn’t too hard to remember, but there was no way that she could remember every word that they said or where they stood. Did it matter? 

She walked over to the shelf where the little vials were and reached up onto the shelf to shift through the bottles. “It looks like Rhea might have borrowed some stuff from the infirmary. Could you give me a hand with something?” 

“What is it?” Asked Arundel. 

“I can’t reach the bottles on the very top shelf, but I need the Fiana root and the yellow one on the end,” Sitri said. 

When he stepped into range she forced herself to stumble, hitting the shelf with her forearm and causing it to collapse. She slipped to the floor and several of the bottles came cascading down and spraying all over Arundel. It narrowly missed her.

Arundel stepped back, his face and hair orange from the Thrummel mixed with Fiana root. He glanced down at himself, seemingly aghast. A slight sneer consumed his face as he looked down at Sitri sitting on her knees on the floor where she had fallen. It was only for an instant and then his face was back to its more neutral expression.

“Isn’t Fiana root caustic?” He asked

“Oh, only when made into a solution…but you might not have wanted to breathe it in and it can cause a bit of rash. 

Arundel darted for the door, moving in a desperate hurry while trying to hold his composure. She could hear his footsteps go off down the hall and into the stairwell. Sitri pulled herself to her feet, there would be a bruise on her leg and she might have cut her arm. It was better than the alternative. 

“We did it,” Sitri said with a little wiggle, she wouldn’t usually have danced for joy, but avoiding death was worth it. 

“You were quite the actress if I do say so myself.”

Just then Hanneman sucked in a sharp breath, his body jolted against the bed. He pressed his feet flat, digging his head, neck and back further into the mattress. His hand went out, grasping in Sitri’s direction. 

“L-lady Rhea.”

“Yes, yes. Everything will be okay Professor Hanneman. Hold on.” Sitri ran to the door, checking both ways down the hall. 

“I don’t sense him near. He must have run back to his quarters,” Sothis said. “We don’t have much time though.” 

“Right. He’ll discover that Hanneman has awakened and there’s no telling what he will do,” Sitri said. 

“It can’t be. It didn’t make any sense.” Hanneman was babbling to himself and anyone that would listen in the room. 

“Three Crests. That’s what said, am I correct? There are grave implications here if this means what I think it does,” Sothis thought into Sitri’s head. 

“We have to find mother,” Sitri replied in a voice so small that only Sothis could hear her. “Sir Philip! Sir Phillip!” 

A tan skinned knight this a bushel of curly brown hair flowing down the back of his suit of armor stepped into the stairwell. “Is everything okay, Lady Sitri?” 

“I need this floor sealed off until further notice. Only Mother and Manuela are to be allowed up. Have a guard fetch them, quickly!” 

Sitri needed to Arundel out and figure out what it was that Hanneman saw and why it would have been worth killing her over.


	17. The Reaper's Doll

Being near the old stone throne made something stir inside of Sitri and Sothis, it couldn’t be a coincidence. It had to be more than just the connection to the Goddess or…whatever Sothis being inside of her meant. She couldn’t properly parse what it was about the place and mother had been so secretive about anything involving the goddess and what this chamber was rumored to have been used for so long ago. 

Now she was propped up in the throne itself, sitting with her legs neatly crossed, Jeralt standing at her side massaging her knee with one hand and Seteth and mother standing before her. Something about their positioning and them all being in this room felt familiar. 

“Tell me exactly what it is you think you saw, again?” Asked Rhea. 

“It wasn’t a dream,” Sitri said. 

“No one is saying you were dreaming or lying or anything of the sort,” Jeralt said. 

“Well, I’m sorry if I am more than a little more shaken up, Jeralt. Lord Arundel would have killed me and I’m only alive because of that…premonition.” Sitri didn’t like to let on the part about Sothis inside of her, it had been her companions wish that they keep her involvement in their lives secret from everyone. 

Seteth rubbed his temples. “It’s possible that you’re just uncomfortable, Lord Arundel can be a bit of a domineering man and to be frank, you’ve been known to be a bit shy.” 

“This isn’t due to any lingering shyness or a mere daydream. I’m begging you Uncle Seteth…Mother—“ 

Rhea held a hand up, slowly lowering it as if to calm her daughter. “Of all my creations, in all of creation, you are the most precious thing to me. I would not allow you to come to harm or turn a blind eye to your fears, still it is hard to see how we can be sure that what you’re saying is more than just day dream.” 

“It wasn’t a dream.” Tears welled up in Sitri’s eyes now. Jeralt took her hand, squeezing it softly. “There’s something wrong with Arundel. Even before I got him to leave the room and saw what I saw he was giving off a strange vibe.” 

“Did he say or do anything unusual,” asked Jeralt. 

“I mean he saved Hanneman with some unidentified substance when no one else could. He had intimate knowledge of the poison,” Sitri’s voice echoed through the cavernous space that made up the Holy Tomb.

Seteth looked to Rhea and then Jeralt. “While this may come as some surprise, I am inclined to trust my niece’s instincts. The other night Lord Arundel arrived here late with his wife, Marianne. I sensed nothing malicious from her, but every moment near that man made me deeply uncomfortable.”

“Well if we are worried about Hanneman and what might happen there, who has been tasked with looking after him. We already know that the last enemy who tried to kill him wore someone else’s face, what if that’s what is going on with Arundel or someone whoever was left to look after Hanneman,” Jeralt said. 

“Catherine and Lord Holst have been tasked with looking after him for now. I trust that they are more than equipped for the task,” Rhea said. 

“And they’re both crest blooded which, if our theory is correct, is something that can’t be faked,” Seteth said. 

Sitri felt someone grab her shoulder, she stirred slightly and glanced to her side to see a semi-transparent image of Sothis whispering in her ear. “Tell them that might not be enough. But leave out the part about the three crests. We still don’t understand that fully,” Sothis said. 

With a nod of her head Sitri cleared her throat. “I don’t know if that will be enough,” she said. 

“Holst and Catherine? Plus Manuela and a small contingency of knights. That should be more than ample,” said Seteth. 

Rhea sighed. “Still there is more,” she said. The Archbishop pointed down from the raised dais where the three of them stood crowded around Sitri on the throne to a far point in the room near one of the many sarcophagi that lined the wall. In the dull greenish light that barely reached that side of the room it was just possible to see three figures. One leaned against a great stone obelisk, a second sitting directly on the nearest sarcophagus and the final one standing pensively nearby. 

“Who…” Jeralt started, but he was abruptly cut off by Seteth. 

“Surely you haven’t allowed them into this holy place!” 

“Our Inquisitors serve the Church in a capacity that myself or the knights never could. They are a necessary measure, one that I am willing to deploy to get to the bottom of all this. If Lord Arundel is indeed up to something, they will find him out,” Rhea said.

“And then?” Asked Seteth. 

“They will do what has to be done,” Rhea said.

“Who are they then?” Sothis spoke directly into Sitri’s head this time. “We’ve heard rumors of their existence, heard them spoken of like phantoms made up to scare children and yet here they are.”

Sitri’s muscles tensed she stared at the trio standing just beyond the reach of the light. Mother had never actually confirmed their existence, she knew this as Sothis knew this—they were the same person after all, but she expected to feel a fear being this close to them the way that she had with Arundel. Instead they just existed. They were yet another secret that her mother had kept from her for all these years. 

* * *

* * *

Flayn had really sprung up in the last five years, she was a little taller than Hilda now. Her face still had that soft, cherubesque quality to it but there was something that reminded Hilda of Lady Rhea more than it did Seteth. She was still overly awkward and wise all at once. That seemed to be just the distilled essence of Flayn. 

The campus was less crowded that it had been just days ago, though there were probably twice as many Knights and guards. Even some of the Alliance soldiers from Houses Gloucester, Edmund, and even Hilda’s own House Goneril were mixed in with other small groups of troops who had traveled here with their lords for the Millennium Festival. 

Everyone else in the search party had broken off including Dedue, who had gone to check on his and Flayn’s daughter. Though it was clear that nothing tragic had befallen anyone while they were away or, if it had, the greater populace of the Monastery was unaware of it. Some of the vends who were trusted from the market place just inside of the gates has been permitted a chance to peddle their wares in other areas and several bundles of people were sitting in one of the grassy court years on blankets around the Amiibo Gazebo having a light meal while chatting. 

Flayn was slightly ahead of Hilda and Claude, her frilly black sleeves ebbed and flowed in the wind. She turned, walking backward with her hands clasped at the small of her back as she spoke to them. 

“When I first learned that you hailed from Almyra and that you had ceded your title to House Goneril I worried that I would never get to speak to you again, Claude,” she said as if the thought just crossed her mind. 

“You should know better than that,” he said with a wink. Hilda recognized the fake smile on his face. “I always come back.” 

“Well, I am delighted that you made it here for the celebration.”

Claude folded his arms behind his head as he glanced over at Hilda. He turned his attention back to Flayn. “I’m planning to stick around as long as I can,” Claude said. “If you need to get back to your daughter to, you know, feed her or something.” 

Flayn chuckled. “Not at the moment, she doesn’t exactly need me to do that anymore. She’s three and she is frankly already more of a glutton for her father’s attentions.” 

“Little girls often are.” Hilda thought of her own father and the way that he doted on her when she was a young girl. They had grown further apart as she grew up, but there was a vast difference between her relationship with Father and Holst’s. 

They followed the cobblestone walkway past the mess hall and headed for the courtyard in front of the classrooms. As they were about to walk out from underneath the breezeway someone swung out to hang upside down in front of them with a huge wide grin on her face. 

The girl looked too young for the Academy, by the look of it. Her dark brown, curly hair was in a puffy bun on the top of her head. She let her wiry, tan arms dangle down toward the ground as she laughed. Her large brown eyes moved side to side surveying Hilda and Flayn. 

For a split second Hilda dropped back into a fighter stance, her hand going for her axe instinctively. 

“What are you doing here?” Claude was clearly shocked to see the girl too, but his was a different kind of shock. 

“How’s it going, Khalid?” The girl asked. 

_ Khalid._ The name kind of caught Hilda off guard. Who was this girl? Why was she referring to Claude like this? 

“Farrah!” Claude went to reach for her, but she swayed out deftly out of his grasp multiple times. 

“Claude, who is this?” Asked Flayn. 

“I’m Farrah, of course.” The young girl arched her back and rocked forward to jostle herself down from her perch and back flipped so that she was standing in the grass before them. With her on her feet finally it was plain to see just how short the girl was and even more apparent to Hilda the loose fitting, earth toned clothes that were common with Almyrans. 

“You know Claude from…” Hilda started. 

“She’s my…little sister…” Claude said. 

Farrah skipped toward Hilda, leaning in close. “This pink one must be Hilda—Khalid is basically obsessed with you.” 

_Funny, he never mentioned you._

“Yeah, I’m Hilda of House Goneril.” Hilda rocked forward to take a truncated bow. 

Flayn nearly bowled Hilda over trying to step forward. “I had no idea that Claude had a sibling. I am Flayn. It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” Flayn took hold of Farrah’s hands, clutching them up between them. 

Claude stepped in, touching Flayn’s shoulder to break the two of them up. “Nice that we’re all getting along. Really. Fun times. Hey, Farrah how did you get here. I mean you couldn’t have come on your own, could you? Please tell me you did.” 

“Farrah! Girl what did I tell you about running off?” The moment that this new voice cut through the air, Hilda noticed Claude stiffen up. The usual easy smile that he maintained faded and he staggered back, slipping his hands into the pockets of his coat. A blonde woman with bright green eyes stepped forward, she had the same effortless smile as Claude and the same charismatic aura. 

Her body was swaddled in a wide piece of ornate cloth that covered her chest and fit down snug against pair of baggy, silken pants. She folded her pale arms over one another, her gaze falling on Claude before moving to Hilda. 

“It looks like you’re settled in here real nicely,” she said. “Old habits die hard, I guess?” Her smile deepened. It was different from Claude’s in that it seemed like she meant it. Hilda had heard her brother talk about her before, she had heard the rumors of the missing Riegan heir. 

Claude nodded. “A lot of my first experiences in Fódlan were right here,” he said. “Mom, this is Hilda…”

“Goneril? I’m Tiana.” Claude’s mom grabbed Hilda at the shoulders, she was taller than Hilda. Almost everyone was. “You’ve got your brother’s eyes,” she said staring down in Hilda’s eyes.

Farrah pressed in close to Tiana, hugging her mother around the waist from the side. 

“Thank you?” There was something about her that made Hilda feel at ease and nervous all at once. Claude’s mother had this eerie familiarity to her. Yeah, that must have been it. 

Then there was the fact that she was this kind of radiant beauty. Hilda wasn’t sure what she had expected, not really, but she didn’t expect a woman who was _this_. There were glimmers of Claude there, but there was gaps missing. Parts that definitely didn’t resemble Claude. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, though,” Tiana said. “Khalid, are you going to make us stand out here in the rutting sun like this or are you going to come over here and greet your mom?” 

Claude shambled forward, arms wide as Hilda stepped out of the way. He embraced his mother. “I had no idea you were coming, I’m shocked is all.” 

“Your father wanted us to come. Said it would mean a lot to you and your efforts to smooth things over between the Fódlan and us,” Tiana said. 

_Fódlan and us. That’s how she sees things now._

“Yeah, I just wish that I had a little warning,” he said. 

“Oh, Lady Tiana, did you attend the Officers Academy here?” Asked Flayn. Hilda had forgotten she was there. 

Tiana smiled a wide, toothy smile. “Oh yeah, it’s been a while though. Not sure if too many of the people from my time would even be here anymore.” 

“Surely you remember Lady Rhea and Sir Jeralt…” Flayn said. 

“Now there is a name I sure do remember. Jeralt used to be quiet the knight and he was kind of easy on the eyes back in the day. Man, he must be ancient now,” said Tiana. 

“Momma said you would show us where you eat at once we got here,” said Farrah. 

“Sure,” Claude said. “We can all go get something if you want,” he glanced to Hilda and then Flayn, but Hilda could tell the question was mostly directed at her. 

“That would be…swell really. Just give us a second to store some gear and maybe get out of these clothes—separately, of course. We’ve got separate rooms because of course we do. We’re not…we’ll be right back. Flayn can you show them to the mess hall?” 

Hilda didn’t wait for her request to be answered as she walked toward the dormitories that housed the visiting lords. She could feel Claude following behind her, hear his boots on the time-worn cobble stones of the walkway, but she didn’t look back. 

They passed a group of students and Hilda had to avert her gaze, she didn’t want anyone reading the look in her eyes. She didn’t want them seeing her when she felt like this. Somehow the walk across this side of the campus felt impossibly long. On the way she spotted someone who she hadn’t known seen in a long time, Marianne. 

Now was not the time to run over and introduce herself. She continued into the dorm, up the stairs and down the hall. Claude was still behind her, but now he finally called out. 

“Hilda. Hilda please!” 

She reached the door of her room and he ran to catch up to her, stepping in behind her at the doorway. “Hilda, I didn’t know she was coming.” 

“What’s you real name?” 

Claude stared at her. 

“I want to hear you say it,” Hilda whispered. “Please.” 

“Khalid. We thought it was too Almyran sounding for attending Garreg Mach so we Fódlanicized it. We couldn’t risk giving away where I was born, not right at the start,” Claude explained. 

“You could have told me your real name before you fucked me,” Hilda said. “You could have told me about your sister or—or anything about yourself. You tell me you want us to be a thing, but I don’t really know you, do I?”

“Everything about my personality is the real me. You know who I am,” Claude said. 

“I know you lied to me about your name and before that you lied to me about where you were from. You were supposed to trust me. You were supposed to trust me if you trusted anyone!” 

“I wasn’t supposed to trust anyone!” Hearing Claude raise his voice, seeing the way he leaned in to emphasize the words, this was a part of him she had never seen before. 

Hilda leaned back, pressing herself against the door.

“People have tried to have me killed since before I could walk. Almyrans think that my father made a mistake marrying the daughter of an Alliance Lord and that I’m going to be too soft to lead them. Fódlan is ready to judge any Almyran as a lazy, uneducated, and savage. There are people who think it’s a horrible crime that I exist and they would have targeted you for being friends with me. What do you think they would do to you if they knew you meant more?” 

“I never looked at you as some savage or uneducated, but you lump me in with all of these other people like it doesn’t matter who I am to you.” Hilda turned and opened her door to step inside. 

“Do you know why I followed you around back at the Academy?” 

“What?” Claude asked. 

“I fell for you. Really early. Maybe I’m just admitting how much a part of that everything was, but maybe it’s hard for me too because I look at you and I see how awful I was to the Almyrans who served under my family. And maybe it would be what I deserve, but what if we have a child? Will people on both sides of the Locket hate them? Will they even look like me?” 

Claude brushed a hand down her cheek and she could feel the tears starting to flow. “Hilda…” He brought his fingers up under her chin, lifting her face to look into his. 

She shook her head, tearing away from his grasp. “Sorry. This isn’t working out with you and me. I’m too tired to pretend that I can be— I’m just sorry.” Hilda stepped through the door and shut it behind her. 

* * *

* * *

The little Imperial Princess sat forward, leaning all nineteen pounds of her weight against Bernadetta’s palm. With a deliberate gentleness, Bernadetta smoothed the red dress that the princess wore down. The small girl’s dress was embroidered with tiny gold eagles and she wore white stockings with little black shoes. 

“Momma will be very happy to see you all dressed up and pretty,” Bernadetta said. 

Princess Greta’s pale blue eyes studied her face, as if she were searching for some understanding. 

Bernadetta reached back and pulled out a small, brown, stuffed velveteen bear. She wiggled it side to side in front of Greta so that the head rocked side to side on the floppy neck. “Who is this? Look who came back!” 

Greta leaned forward, but quickly became distracted by the sight of Bernadetta’s long, violet hair. The small princess reached out to pull her fingers down through it. 

“You’re just obsessed with my hair, aren’t you?” Bernadetta laughed. 

There was a sound out in the hallway and Bernadetta turned toward the door for a moment, watching silently as the baby swung her arms wildly and bounced in place. 

“Thought that might have been them. You know, I miss Hubert like you miss your momma.” 

Greta reached for the stuffed bear and Bernadetta moved it forward for the little girl to grab it. 

Then there was a knock on the door. Bernadetta hefted the child up into her arms, letting her rest against her hip as she edged her way over to the door. “Who’s there?” 

“It’s me and Hubert,” Edelgard said, her voice muffled through the thick wooden door. 

Bernadetta unlatched the door and pulled it open, Edelgard stepped through and Greta immediately lunged for her mother, almost leaping right out of Bernadetta’s hands. 

“Whoa there, slow down!” Edelgard said taking the baby. “Someone missed me, it seems.” 

Bernadetta stooped down and picked up the rabbit that Greta had dropped. “We had a pretty uneventful morning. I read with her, we fixed bear’s ear because it had ripped, and I just changed her a moment ago.” Bernadetta counted off on her fingers as she listed things. 

“I’ll take her off your hands so you can get some rest then, it sounds like you had a full day already!” Edelgard said. 

Hubert was standing out in the hallway off to the side, his arms folded behind his back as he waited for Edelgard to finish her business. 

“I’m just glad Hubert and the others were able to find you so fast. I was starting to get worried,” Bernadetta said. “There’s only so much ‘pretending like everything is fine’ that I can do.” She gave a nervous laugh. 

Edelgard clasped Bernadetta’s arm. “I’m just glad that Greta has someone like you looking out for her.” 

“It’s not a problem. She’s family, really,” Bernadetta said. 

“I’ll let you two get back to it,” Edelgard said glancing to Hubert. 

“Of course, Empress Edelgard,” Hubert said with a curt bow. “Hopefully you are able to get some rest now that things have worked out.” 

Greta was swatting for at the white tendrils of hair that hung down in front of Edelgard’s ears as she did her best to move her head from side to side to keep the tiny Princess from grabbing hold of them. “I’ll get as much rest as I can while this one is around—maybe I should enlist the help of a certain King?” Edelgard’s lips curled into a thin smile before she struck off down the hallway and out of sight. 

Hubert closed the door and began to unfasten the buttons of his shirt. His fingers fumbled with the fabric as he struggled to push the buttons through the small holes. Bernadetta stepped in close to him. There was a warmth coming off of him and a smell like sweat with a husky hint of a damp, forest odor. 

“Let me,” she said as she moved her hands up under his and worked the buttons undone. 

For a moment Hubert seemed like he would continue to try and do it for himself, but he let his hands fall to his sides so that she could do it. Bernadetta unbuttoned the shirt in silence and when he was free, he moved to draw his arms out of the sleeves and remove the garment the rest of the way. 

“What happened out there?” 

“Lady Edelgard and Dimitri had been ambushed. They gave chase after defeating the initial attackers and we caught up to them before they took on the main host. There are dark machinations at play here…”

“Have you notified the Knights?” 

“The Professor and Lady Mercedes would be best suited for that duty, besides I do not think that Lady Rhea is equipped to deal with something of this magnitude during the festival.”

Bernadetta circled around Hubert and plucked his shirt off of the chair where he laid it. She examined it for stains or tears before folding it over her arm. “You know what you could use, a warm bath! Heh, I’m going to go fill the basin.” 

She folded the shirt up and placed it in a clothes hamper off to the side of the door as she went toward the shared washroom where the bath basin was situated. There was a supply of cool water kept next to water being warmed over fire. It was a simple matter of mixing these two in the right parts to get it just right for Hubert. 

That was a skill that she had developed quite well over the last few years. Just knowing Hubert in general. 

By the time that she had mixed the water and prepared things she returned to the room to find Hubert napping in a chair. She covered him and went to use the bath herself. 

* * *

* * *

The cavern must have been around a hundred feet high, it was hard to judge the distance in the low light provided by their torches and what spilled over from above. The only thing for certain was that the massive cylinder was immense enough to be partially buried in the ground and still pass through the ceiling of the cave. 

It was aged and had probably been down there for centuries, but there was no mistaking it for naturally occurring. The metal had rusted, but there was still enough of its original luster there to make out the marks of extremely fine craftsmanship. Parts of it appeared to be painted red. Near where it was going into the ground it had crumpled due to the force of the impact. 

Wings beat against the air as Cynthia circled around the structure up high. It was wide enough around that she couldn’t circle it very quickly. She held her lantern up, examining it up close as the others waited below. 

“Any clue what it is?” Asked Lucina.

“Hmm, someone made it and it’s very old. I mean, how did it even get this far down?” Asked Cynthia. 

There was an impact crater where the object had burrowed into the floor of the cavern. Bits of rock and what looked like the metals from the structure mixed in together. Though they could have all gotten close to the base of whatever this thing was by climbing down into the cater, Felix had warned against it. 

Camilla pointed up at the hole the thing was coming through. “The light there appears to be more of those glowing cave rocks, so it’s not from the sun. Think about how far down we must be. If something got this deep it must have fallen from really far to pick up enough speed.” 

“Or it was fired from something really hard. Really, we don’t know how long it’s been here. It could have fallen in at a time when there wasn’t as much above us,” Annette said. 

“Even then, what could fire something hard enough to drive it through the rocks?” Asked Felix. 

For a long time Annette didn’t move, her blue eyes seemed to catch some of the light trickling down from above. “There was something I remember from an old book about using an explosion to launch a small projectile, maybe this is the same thing with a much larger explosion? The object is certainly too big for it to have been fired with a band like a sling uses…” 

Owain crept around the crater’s edge, moving toward the opposite side of the room. “Do you hear that?” He whispered. 

“Is someone coming?” Asked Cynthia, drawing up on Belfire’s reins to steer him down to a lower altitude. 

Following the crater around until it was near the wall and then following that wall up to a small ledge, Owain found himself standing before a narrow opening that was nearly unnoticeable if someone weren’t looking for it. The others could see it relevant to him now. he glanced out of the hole and then motioned for the others to follow. 

Felix, Annette, Mae and Lucina made their way carefully up the narrow path to where Owain waited. The small crevice that they were looking through now was wide enough for them all to see, but the hole itself was at an angle looking down on a lower cavern, one lit with torches. It was expansive, and perhaps most importantly, it was filled with little personal belongings like clothes belonging to both genders arranged on makeshift dummies, half opened trunks in a semi-circle around a pair of beds, and various weapons. 

The cavern had a small pool of water sourced from a fall and emptying out through a narrow stream that ran down one side of the room. It seemed to be a perfect little hiding nook for a person or two, but it wasn’t the forward staging ground of the invasion force that they expected to find. 

Then someone moved on the far side of the room, their voice echoing through the caves as they spoke. “Howe fortunate we are to have found rose petal blend tea in one of the store rooms. This will make for a most interesting session, don’t you think?” 

“Jeritza?” Felix said. 

“Like the Death Knight?” Asked Annette. 

“Shh,” Owain warned. 

“The same one. I would know that voice anywhere.” Felix peered down through the crack again. “He’s got someone with him, but he seems to be carrying them.” 

Jeritza’s blonde hair was long and straight down his back and when he turned too quickly toward them there was a swish of his hair. His movements were erratic and made it hard to see just who he was holding. 

“I’ve neglected your hygiene for far too long. Tonight we shall bathe you, my dear child,” Jeritza said.

“Who is he talking with?” Asked Annette. 

They waited, listening for someone to answer Jeritza. “Probably his sword.” Felix swept a tuft jet black hair away from his forehead. “He was nuttier than squirrel shit before he started dressing like children’s storybook villain.” 

“Language. There’s students present!” Annette chided him. 

Camilla landed her wyvern close by and dismounted, the metal of her armor jangled from the impact of her hitting the ground. “Who is he? This Jeritza?”

“He was the combat instructor from when I was a student here. Or he was until it was found out that he was most likely in league with or was the Death Knight. He disappeared when Seteth’s sister was kidnapped and never popped back up. Professor Byleth has found the Death Knight on many occasions since then,” Felix said. 

“Oh yeah, Mercie had talked about how the Death Knight seemed to show up where ever Byleth was. She seemed to be unsure of how to deal with it—and something about the Death Knight always felt off to her.” 

“If this Death Knight bastard lived beneath our Academy and had found some way to listen in on plans or follow troop movements it would explain how he always seems to know where Professor Byleth is,” said Owain. 

“Hell’s teeth, is that a woman?” Lucina gasped, pointing back to where Jeritza was now visible. He was wearing simple clothes, a white shirt and tan pants and he carried a woman against his chest who’s skin was so pale that for a moment it didn’t look as if he had anything. She was naked accept for a wispy, lace gown draped over her form. 

There was no sign of response from her. 

“Ew, is anyone else getting an uneasy feeling from all of this? I mean more uneasy than they were with the giant tube or the whole secret underground lair…” Mae said. 

“That’s…” Felix had to hold his words back, had to study the small round face and make sure that he wasn’t mistaken just because of the light green ringlet curls that her hair was styled in. “That’s impossible.” 

“What?” Asked Lucina. 

“That’s Flayn.” Felix climbed to his feet and drew his sword. 

“What do you think you’re going to do? Jump through the wall?” Asked Owain. 

Felix whipped his sword through the air, bringing the fact side of the blade down to rest against the side of his arm. “I’m going to get answers.” 

Jeritza stripped Flayn out of her gown and lowered her into basin filled with water. He had already began to scrub her with brushes and and soaps fragrant smelling enough that Felix swore he could smell them all the way up here. 

“How does he have her?” Asked Annette. “She was just on campus and she also hasn’t looked like that in years.” 

“I don’t know, but he alluded capture for this long, I’m going to drag him back to the school and make him answer some questions,” said Felix. “Anyone have a way through this wall?” 

“Leave it to me,” Mae said, clapping her hands before rubbing them together vigorously. 

“Annette, you ready? The rest of you lot,” Felix said pointing to the students in his charge, “Time to earn your keep.” 

There was a sizzle-like hiss followed by rapid flashes of bright white light. And then the cavern was rocked by an explosion projected out from Mae’s hands. Rocks and debris poured through the gap left by her attack. Felix and Lucina were already moving, charging through the smoke and dust to apprehend Jeritza. 

Annette coughed. “Careful, you could bring this whole place down on us!” 

A rush of things happened all at once. The fall was not quite as far as it looked at first, but Felix had prepared for the distance, but his misjudgment of it caused him to slip when he landed and fall to his side. Lucina was far luckier, she rolled out of her landing and sprung up onto her feet to pull her sword. 

Jeritza rushed to the side of the basin, off of the little rug where it sat to an area where a weapons rack with swords and lances was sat up. There was a dark suit of armor there too, the helmet and chest piece arranged on a stand. He grabbed a saber and whirled around to face them. 

“No,” Jeritza said. “My face.” He touched his bare face with his free hand. 

The entire time that they were at the Academy Felix couldn’t remember ever seeing the old fencing instructor without some form of a mask on. Felix pushed himself up onto his feet, but Lucina was in a better position to attack first. She lunged forward in an obvious attempt to bait Jeritza out. He fell for it, but only attacked in a vaguely defensive way. 

Lucina put the pressure on him, battering his sword down until he couldn’t lift it. Jeritza shuffled backward, dragging the saber against the ground as he made his retreat. 

Felix scrambled to the basin while he was distracted and used a nearby towel to lift Flayn out. 

Now Jeritza was in full retreat, charging through the room with the sword scratching at the floor behind him. “Please, put her back. Leave us alone!” 

Camilla and Marzia landed in front of Jeritza, blocking his path. The moment that he spotted her, he threw his arm up across his face to shield himself from being seen by her. He turned and charged back the other way. Lucina was right there when he switched directions—she grabbed him roughly around the neck and tackled him to the ground. She tumbled over him until she had his hand pinned under one knee and the other leg on his chest. 

He lay under her, struggling against her weight. Annette and Owain were at her side. “Help me restrain him. Give me your rope, Cyn.” 

Cynthia landed with Belfire and brought the pegasus to a slow trot up until she was close enough to her sister to toss the rope. 

“You can’t do this to me,” Jeritza yelled. “You can’t take me out of here without my face.” 

“Oh boy, he’s not making any sense,” Mae said. 

“Who’s the girl?” Asked Felix. The girl who looked too much like Flayn to be anyone else hadn’t moved since he had been holding her. She wasn’t breathing and he couldn’t feel a heartbeat, but at the same time she wasn’t cold and her body hadn’t grown stiff the way a dead one normally would. 

“Take your hands off of her!” Jeritza yelled. 

“Who is she? Why does she look like Flayn?” 

Lucina and Owain rolled Jeritza over so that he was face down and tied his hands together behind his back before running the rope down so that his feet were restricted and linked to his hands. 

“I have a talent for murder that demands expression. How dare you constrict me!” Jeritza growled as he arched his back, pressing his chest into the dirt in an attempt to buck them off of his back. 

When he was secured the hauled him upright. Felix carried Flayn over so that Jeriza could see her. “What are you doing down here?” Felix demanded.

“Searching for a blood soaked death…”

Camilla let out a sigh, fluffing her purple hair with one hand. “You’re not going to get anything out of that one. Look at his eyes—nothing there.” 

“It’s already going to be a long walk back up to the surface and we were supposed to only be here three hours. We can always come back down here to investigate more,” Annette said. 


	18. INTERLUDE - A Prayer for the Future

# 1161, Eastern Border of Fódlan, the Throat

The air is thick with vinegar and lye and burned alcohol with a metallic hint; they had to do whatever they could in an attempt to sterilize instruments. Even then the smell of blood was apparent. When the fortification at The Throat had been constructed it wasn’t like the three nations had considered the creature comforts. There hadn’t been time. Fódlan’s locket was designed to do one thing: defend from an Almyran invasion from the East. 

It was doing even that poorly right now. 

Still, it was a lousy place to reside for someone so pregnant, only surpassed by how awful a place it was to actually give birth. Tiana didn’t think when she volunteered to deliver a message from her father that so many things would coincide: the birth of Hector and Victoria Goneril’s fourth child, a violent storm, and a brutal Almyran attack. Goddess Sothis must have thought them ready for a truly gruesome ordeal. 

The rooms of Fódlan’s locket were all old yellow stone, the color of bread made from cornmeal and the same color of the rock from the mountains of The Throat. It had seemed an innocent, neutral color before, but now in the light of the events in the makeshift birthing room everything around them seemed to be sickly, diseased. 

A child that had come into the world bloody and screaming and thrashing was curled up against her mother’s chest silent and still now. Hints of blood still colored the wispy pink hair atop her small head. There was so much blood. The closer to the bed that Tiana stood the more the room smelled like blood and other viscera fluids. She had taken to standing three-quarters of the way out from the bed, because that was close as she could bare to be for any prolonged time. 

And the last thing spoken in the room hung over the air like the smell of the disinfectants. “Were we in the heart of Enbarr or Fhirdiad with the best healers that the Goddess could bless the complications would be as dire.” 

Valentina Goneril herself who finally broke the heavy silence at the very moment that Fódlan’s Locket rumbled with the force of thunder or another round of bombardment. “Do you think if they knew she was here they’d grant us a little break.” Her sentence slowed with each word, as if each time she opened and closed her mouth it cut her strength by half. 

Tiana moved to the bedside, avoiding the flecks of blood dotting the floor. She touched Valentina’s side, touched the arm that was holding the newborn. “No. I don’t think they will,” she said with a small laugh. 

Silently, the baby’s eyes had come open. Eyes so subtly pink that they might have been white. She stared at Tiana, her expression completely vacant. And then her little hand made a wobbly motion for Tiana’s. She latched on to Tiana’s pinky finger. 

Valentina cracked a smile, but couldn’t sustain it. “She likes you.” 

Hector Goneril knelt at the bedside, to look up into his wife’s eyes. “You need rest, Grisella said…” 

“I’m dying.” Valentina coughed. “She said that. Allow me to spend time with my daughter.” 

“I don’t want you to go.” Hector’s voice broke as he spoke.

Everything around them shook again. Something outside came crashing down with a thunderous noise. One of the defense towers that marked the edges of the fort must have collapsed. 

Most of the battles Tiana had experienced were minor rebellions or scrimmages against the Almyrans right out side of the fort she was currently in. She had seen the deaths of enemies and allies alike. There was a gulf of difference between those deaths and watching a new mother slowly slip away. 

“What’s her name, Lady Goneril?” Tiana asked, doing her best to keep from meeting Valentina’s eyes. 

“Hilda.” She said after a particularly laborious breath.

“It’s nice to meet you, Lady Hilda.” Watching the baby was easier. She was the only one in the room with an even expression, her pink eyes searching the new world around her for meaning as her mother’s grasp on her tiny body grew more and more limp. 

The door to the room burst open and a muscular boy was filling the frame of the door. “Father, the defenses are collapsing. We…” 

“Come here, Holst,” Hector said. 

Holst crossed the room to stand next to Tiana, his eyes welling up with tears and fright. “Mother? What’s—what’s happening?” 

Tiana put both her hands on Holst shoulders and ran her hands up the back of the boys neck. His pink hair was stained with soot and dirt from the explosions. “Hey, look. This is your little sister, Hilda,” Tiana said. 

“She’s going to be okay if we survive these damned Almyrans, but your mom…” Tiana trailed off. 

“Take her…” Valentina rasped. “Take…” 

Tiana stooped down and lifted the child from Valentina’s arms carefully. Hilda was so warm and she seemed to be sleeping again. Her heart was strong, steady, and quick. Her breathing felt a little uneven, but determined. 

“Here she is. Here.” Tiana handed the child off to Holst. 

Holst took the baby absently, curling her up against his chest. Another explosion outside. “Mom.” 

The smell was worse now somehow. The room seemed to darken. Tiana was still warm where she had been holding Hilda. She watched Holst holding the cloud close, she felt a kind of energy rip through the room and heard Hector sobbing. They knew all at once that Valentina was gone. 

Holst shifted little Hilda’s weight, holding her closer to his chest. She stirred against him, nuzzling her face against his shirt. 

“Look at me, Holst,” Tiana said. He glanced up to face her and she moved to kiss him lightly on the forehead. “This place won’t hold much longer and your father needs you. More than that your sister needs you—she’s your responsibility now,” Tiana said. “I have to get out there and get into the air. There’s no way this place holds without help.” 

Hector was clutching his wife’s hand. “Go, please. We need to be alone.” 

Tiana nodded and jogged for the door and out into the hall. “Balthus! I need my arms and a spare Pegasus if you know where there is one.” 

* * *

* * *

White hot flashes of pain marred her senses with each attempt to move. She had to move. Had to get onto her feet, but wet sticks scratched her skin and she couldn’t see anything past the spots where light broke through the mosaic of leaves and there was no way to tell how far from the ground she was. 

Tiana kicked her legs, trying jostle herself free of whatever plant held her. There last thing that she could remember from before was she was falling, crashing toward the forest on the wrong side of the border. 

Footsteps. They were close and coming closer. 

“Are you okay? Try to hold still.” 

They were far from the battle. If one of House Goneril’s men had gone after her or had been nearby when she went down that would be a miracle. The only other person she had seen nearby had been the Wyvern Rider she had engaged in combat. He was a hellion in the skies; fierce, fearless, and completely at home in the skies. 

Somehow she just knew it had to be him. 

“Can you hear me?” He asked, he was right off to her side now. 

“Get away from me.” Even talking carried a moderate level of pain. 

“At least let me get you out of this bramble,” he said and she could hear a hint of sarcasm in his voice. 

“I’m in here because you flew right at me. I thought you were going to run me over.” Tiana said. 

“Yeah, usually people get out of the way when you do that.” She could feel him touching the plants behind her back. 

“You’re stuck in there really good. I’m going to have to touch your upper back—is that okay?” He asked. 

Tiana paused. “What do you mean?”

“Can I put my hand between—well from what looks from down here to be your shoulder blades. I need to support your weight before I just cut you down.” 

The night air was still except for the low, elongated cries of toads and the rain dripping from the leaves. 

“You can touch.” The interaction in general was like nothing she ever expected to have with the Almyrans, but she had to be cautious. This was likely their side of the border and no doubt he had support with him. 

His hand made subtle contact with her back so slowly that it was like he was waiting for her to rescind permission. After a moment, he pressed against her back with more force and began to cut through the thin, ropey bits of the plant that held her in place. As more of the plants were hacked away, Tiana slipped lower and lower with more of her weight being supported by this Almyran stranger. 

There was a soft, thick snap and she was falling. Her arm flared up with an intense pain from the movement. She had no time to adjust and her mind was too cloudy for quick thought. 

She was caught out of midair.

Tiana gazed up into the face of the man who had caught her, his hazel eyes held a mixture of confusion and concern as he searched her face. His hair was wrapped away behind a kind of bundled cloth that was around the top of his head. Despite his disheveled appearance from the storm and the fall, the wrap was neat and crisp and it was perhaps the only thing besides his eyes that she could see. 

His clothes were earthen tones with beiges and browns accented with gold or yellow trim. Intricate patterns lined his shirt around the scant armor he wore. 

The two of them were standing in a narrow path through a densely wooded crevice that ran between two steep cliffs. The sides of the cliffs were a slick, wet mossy green color with only two directions for them to go from here. 

“I’m going to put you down now.”

“Yeah. Thank you.”

He placed Tiana slowly onto the ground, making sure her feet found their footing fully before letting her go. She staggered and let out a sharp wince as her arm moved again. 

“I think it’s broken,” said the Almyran. 

She went to move it, but even that slight motion was too much and sent shockwaves spiraling down her arm and reverberating through the rest of her body. Tiana cried out, biting down to clamp her mouth shut to keep most of the sound from escaping. 

“We need to find something we can use to set bone so it doesn’t move. Are you okay enough to walk some?” 

Carefully, Tiana got a grip around her arm and tried to hold it in a way that kept it from moving and causing her any further discomfort. “Why are you helping me. We’re on different sides of a war—we don’t even know each other’s names for Sothis-sake.” 

He had already started to search the ground for sticks, kicking at bits of wood to see how long they were or test them. “Okay. I’ll start us off. I’m Abayomi.” He turned back to her briefly, putting a balled fist over his heart—the Empire salute. 

She sighed, confused and moved closer to him to help him search. Bending over might be a bit too much as she would have a hard time keeping the arm steady. 

“I’m Tiana.” 

“Tiana?” He said the name as if it were new to him and he was testing it out. “That’s a great name.” He had an easy smile, which seemed to be a wildly inappropriate response to everything that was happening. 

“Thanks,” Tiana said. 

Abayomi was taller than her, with long arms and lankly legs that he moved on like they were recent additions to his body. He shuffled side to side in place before her, gathering sticks. Once he was finished she let him set the arm and make the splint around it. He used a strip of cloth from beneath his armor to make the part that wrapped around it to keep it in place. 

As he fixed the splint together he spoke. “Still feeling okay? You’re a little warm to touch.” 

“Why are you doing all of this?” 

“Doing what?” 

“Helping me.”

“Helping you?” 

Tiana sighed hard enough that it hurt, literally. “That’s what I said.” 

Abayomi rubbed at the back of his head as the confusion played over his face. “Well, you’re hurt. It’s the right thing to do, right?” 

He finished the splint in silence as she took each little opportunity she could to look him over. Maybe it was just the cloud-filtered light or maybe she had hit her head on the way down, but his skin was a dull brown, almost taupe. It made his bright eyes stand out even more, even when they weren’t looking directly at her face she could see their movements while he worked to set her arm. 

He bound the cloth around the outside of the braces and she felt the sticks pull together as he cinched his work. 

“There, that should let you move at least enough to get around.” 

Tiana worked her shoulder, that joint was fine, but she could feel little hints of pain in the arm still. Having the makeshift splint helped tremendously. She pondered what the situation she found herself in called for as the persistent pain became a bad memory with the occasional little jab to jog her recollection. 

“Thank you.” 

“When you’re learning to ride pissed off Wyverns there’s going to be some broken arms.” Abayomi laughed. 

“I’m unarmed and one arm short. I suppose this means I’m coming with you.” Tiana had a dagger, it was a small one and probably wouldn’t kill unless she was precise, but she didn’t want to give up her only leverage. 

Abayomi’s face got all wrinkled in confusion. “Oh, gods, you think I want to capture you?”

“What do you do with Fódlan soldiers who fall on your side of the border?” 

“Fight them, but seeing as you’re without your weapons and that flying horse and I’m without my Wyvern it really wouldn’t be any fun at this point—so I might as well walk you back to the—what do you call them on that side? The Neck.”

Tiana got to her feet, stumbling to catch her balance. “You’re letting me go?” 

“Our fight’s over. You really gave as good as you got. My enthusiasm with that scare tactic might have gotten us both stranded though.” 

_He’s alone and his Wyvern is out of the picture_. 

“Your people called all that mayhem like it was a game?” Tiana asked. 

“Every battle is an opportunity to prove your worth. We can’t just go about combat without giving it our all.” 

“People died back there,” Tiana said, pointing back in the direction that she figured to be home with her good arm. 

“We had our reasons for the attack.” 

“Okay, well I watched a woman die because she couldn’t get proper medical care during all this.” 

“And little Almyran children are marched across the border by so called merchants, claiming that they’re from Duscur or Brigid to serve as slaves in noble house holds.”

“The Alliance doesn’t do that. We only take prisoners when we’re attacked and they’re treated fairly. Given a wage and a place to live and honest work.” 

“That’s what they told you? How many children do you see fighting back at the neck? How many adults are brought to be house servants?”

Tiana had never thought of it. The youngest people she saw in all her encounters with Almyrans were late teens and the servants the houses had were brought in as children. It was almost always the case. 

She didn’t know hold long they had been staring at each other when he finally clamped a hand down on her good shoulder. “We should get moving. There’s a camp near the border, but it could be days of travel from here.” 

“Days?” 

His easy smile returned. “You made me chase you pretty far, flying-horsey-girl. These mountain paths wind all through here, see?” 

“Yeah.” Tiana said. “And they’re called Pegasi.” 

“What?” 

“They’re not flying horses, they’re Pegasi.” 

“Okay, so come on…Pegasi-girl.” He tilted his head to the side, as if to indicate the path they should follow and this was the first time she a look at the subtle hoop earrings he wore, silver in color and gleaming in the sun. 

She followed him, sure that if she were alone without a weapon and in her current condition any number of things could kill her. He was an odd man, but in hostile territory she could do worse for companionship.

* * *

* * *

Their small fire crackled from inside of the circle of rocks that they had assembled. The sun had been absent from the sky for over an hour, by her best estimate. 

Sticks were stretched out over the fire, propped up at the right height to hold little birds laid out to cook. Tiana hadn’t seen the species of bird before, but figured that they must have been something that Abayomi had eaten before. 

The smell of strange meat and smoke filled the area around them. Tiana poked at the fire with a stick until embers wafted up into the air. She tried to tighten her hand on the broken arm, the pain washed over her and she felt her body tremble with a slight heat. Maybe this was an ineffective way to keep herself awake, but she didn’t want to be the first to fall asleep. 

Abayomi stood up from his spot across from her, holding up his small waterskin. “We’re going to need more,” he said before pressing a tightly balled up fist to his chest, giving a curt bow, and striking off into the woods. 

When they first began to search for a place to spend the night the sun was just beginning to set. They had found a small spring near enough by that they had all of the water they wanted. It would be a problem if they were too close to the spring, though, because any predators or anyone else around that used the spring could find them. 

Tiana caught the sound of cracking sticks and leaves just before Abayomi jogged out of the darkness holding the waterskin high. “Those birds might be ready. Do you want a drink first?” 

“Sure,” Tiana said. In the back of her mind she considered the idea that he might try to poison her. It would be a clean way to dispose of and enemy, but he didn’t know who she really was. She had known well enough to conceal her identity as Duke Oswald von Riegan’s only daughter. The Almyran would probably kill to get his hands on the leader of the Alliance’s daughter, but then he could have killed her off much easier—he could have never helped to fix her arm and just left her. 

He handed the waterskin off to her. “Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome,” said Abayomi, again putting his fist to his breast. 

The water tasted much too clean, but she pulled the waterskin down prematurely. “Why do you keep doing that?” 

“Doing what?” 

“Putting your fist over your heart and doing the little bow?”

“Isn’t that how Westerners greet and thank one another?” Asked Abayomi. 

Tiana had started to drink again, but had to cover her mouth with her wrist to keep from spitting the water up. “No. That’s the Adrestian Empire salute.” 

“Oh.” Abayomi took this information in and reflected on it, with his confusion at this revelation playing across his face. “It was kind of this rumor that I heard somewhere. I don’t remember who first told me that. 

Tiana shrugged as she went to plug the stopper back into the waterskin. “All of Fódlan used to be Empire once upon a time—so it’s not too far off.” 

He bobbed his head up and down as he accepted the waterskin back, seemingly less in a way of agreement and more as a acknowledgment of what he had been told. “A long time ago, before even the Empire, all of this land used to be Fódlan to all of the people. Even as far east as Boletus and the Salt Tear Sea.”

“They used to call Almyra Fódlan?” 

“Fódlan was just the name of the continent,” said Abayomi. 

“I never thought about what you called the nations past The Throat…”

“Do you end at your throat?” Abayomi said pointing at the side of his own neck.

Tiana laughed. “Damn, I guess I don’t.” 

“Have you ever heard the story of why we call this land Fódlan?”

“That’s just the name it’s always had.” 

“Maybe, but the my people have a tale that my grandfather told me about how there were these six great dragons. I don’t even remember all of their names, but Fódlan, she was one of them. Something really bad happened while the dragons were swimming through the vast endless sea and to protect themselves they let their bodies harden and out of their scaly backs hey sprouted humans and wyverns to protect them and plants and animals to occupy the human’s time!” Abayomi threw his arms up as he mentioned the humans sprouting.

“But the dragons forgot what they truly were and they’re in a dreamless sleep and the dragon we live on is Fódlan,” he said finally. 

Tiana caught herself smiling, perhaps too much, but she didn’t feel the need to stop. “Do you know any other stories about Fódlan?” 

Abayomi checked the food over the fire. “No. Not really. This food is ready.” 

“Great, I’m starved.” 

* * *

* * *

When she awoke the morning of the fourth day Abayomi was gone. After the first night when she woke up to find him not in their small camp she had panicked, only to realize he was off preparing himnself for the trek ahead. 

This disciplined routine must have just been part of who he was because it was the same in the days after that. She searched around that first time only to find him back at the camp. 

She hadn’t ever actually found him before. Tiana decided to try and break that streak. 

As she got over onto her side and searched for her boots she heard something off in the distance and glanced up to see an animal that she didn’t recognize—some kind of small furry, low to the ground cat. It ran away as soon as it noticed her. 

Tiana slipped into her boots with as much ease as she could manage with one hand and got onto her feet using a nearby stick to help push herself up onto her knees. She wandered out of their little camp area toward toward the small stream that ran nearby. That would be the place that she was most likely to find him, or at least that is what she figured. 

The rest of the forest around the area they had picked to camp in was more sparsely wooded than the previous ones had been, but it also boasted steeper cliffs that blocked out of even more of the sun than before. They spent most of the morning and the late afternoon in shade, which also made it hard to see at a distance. 

She stalked through the underbrush, glancing back every so often out of a fear of losing sight of camp or even the possibility that someone or something could steal up behind her. For a moment she thought that it might make sense to call out to Abayomi, but she thought the better of it. 

Then there was a snapped branch dangling from a tree, she noticed it because it was at eye level for her. Abayomi was taller and he could have easily broken it on accident or just out of boredom as he passed. 

Tiana navigated her way around the tree and up to a small ridge that was piled with dried, dead sticks. It looked as if water had come through here, much higher water than the river now had, and washed debris into this high point. She shambled over the sticks, being careful to mind her broken arm as she did, and at the top of the mound she could see Abayomi. 

He was sitting on the edge of a small pond, legs folded in front of him. His back was too her, but she could tell it was him by the posture even though his head-wrap and shirt were gone. If he had heard her creeping up, he hadn’t reacted and something told her not to call out. 

Abayomi looked different than the men she had seen from the Alliance, Kingdom, and Empire. It went deeper than just his darker skin—he was almost completely hairless. His body seemed to shine with the light that reflected up off the water. And his hair—his hair was almost like a lambs wool: thick with dark curls to the point that it seemed to hold the shape it had been smashed into by his turban. 

He took slow, deep breaths. Though the pose was different, she recognized the reverence and the solemn look on his face. Abayomi was praying. 

To the best of her ability, Tiana couldn’t remember the tenants of the Almyran religion, but she remembered that while they considered all other gods as valid expressions, they had their own. Some of them were reflected in places like Duscur—the cultures were very different, but some of the gods were said to be analogues for each other. She wondered which ones that Abayomi prayed to here. 

For several minutes she watched him in the stillness of the forest canyon. She didn’t know what she hoped to learn this way or even what to make of this, but it really hadn’t occurred to her until right then that she had come to regard Abayomi is different and that if that were the case then maybe there were differences across the board with the Almyran people. Maybe, between the hints of culture that she knew about them and the fact that they had a culture and technology that could produce and individual such as Abayomi everyone back in Fódlan (or the West) had been wrong about them. 

Surely they had. 

The conflict had been a thing for as long as recorded history and maybe it happened because of something, but no one could remember what that was exactly. 

Why should the people on either side of The Throat continue to fight like this? How could she go back to fighting people like Abayomi without thinking about the last few days. 

If this was all it took for someone to see the differences didn’t matter as much as everyone assumed maybe there was something she could do. 

“Good morning.” 

Abayomi didn’t turn to face her when he spoke. 

“Hey.” 

“I guess you just wanted to get out and go for a walk?” 

“I was just curios where you’d been going.” 

“Just had to take care of a bit of my morning routine,” Abayomi said as he climbed onto his feet. He strolled back toward her, bringing his hands up to rest behind his head. Tiana could see now that even under his arms there were only wisps of dark hair slicked down with sweat. 

“Oh. You looked peaceful. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“I’m glad you came. I mean—I wanted to apologize to you about the loss of your friend. It’s really hard watching someone go. I guess it didn’t make battling right after any easier and I teased you a lot about it, like it was no big thing.”

Tiana lowered her eyes. “It’s not—it’s not your fault really. She died giving birth to a little girl and the midwife even told us that there was nothing short of a miracle from the goddess that could have saved her.” 

“Do you want to pray with me—for her—and for the sake of her daughter?” Abayomi asked. 

“I’m not the most devout, I guess.” 

“It can’t hurt and if it helps, maybe it’ll inspire her spirit to come back and give that daughter good fortune, guide her to great things.” 

“Yeah, I guess it can’t hurt if you put it that way,” Tiana said as she went to climb over the ridge the rest of the way. Abayomi offered out a hand to help her over. As she stepped forward he reached out to catch her and she stepped into his grasp so that his other hand was at her waist. 

“That okay?” He asked. 

“Yeah, yeah it is.” 

They made their way down the store of the pond where pebbles were set into the ground like natural cobblestones and they sat there together, crosslegged and with the cool canyon air sweeping past them. They were cutting into their daylight, travel was already becoming harder as the terrain in the canyon began to grow more craggy, but this was important. 

Tiana could feel it. 

And when the sun had began to crest in the sky and it’s light reached down into the canyon, she didn’t know where it came from or why she thought to do it, but she leaned close to Abayomi, her eyes looking at his closed eyelids until he sensed the change in the air around him and opened them. 

“Do you mind if I kiss you?” She asked. 

There was a flash of shock that played briefly over his face, but he fought hard to hide it and succeeded. “I don’t mind.” 

And so she did.


	19. The Secret's in the Telling

“Is there not waters for fish where you are from?” Petra was standing on the end of the dock that jutted out into the fishing pond, holding a simple rod that she had borrowed from the little hut next to the water. Her maroon hair was drawn back into elegant braids that she would reach up and brush her hand over, seemingly out of instinct, as she continued her conversation with the second to last person that Hilda wanted to run into right now. 

Holst. 

He was sitting with his legs dangling out over the water, hands pressed down against the planks of wood at his sides and with his head turned to look back over his shoulder at Petra. 

“Plenty of water and fish in the Alliance; I just never had an interest,” said Holst with a little half smile that slowly spread until he was grinning as large a grin as Hilda had ever seen on his face. 

“Right. You are the brother of Hilda? She is truly skilled. I was…with surprise the first time I witnessed her power.” Petra pulled at the string coming down from her fishing rod, bringing it closer so that she could fiddle with the bait that was fixed to the hook. Then brought her arms back and slung them forward, casing out into the water. 

“I’m no expert, but I would imagine that’s pretty good form,” said Holst. 

“For a time I had problems, Flayn explained a technique from her mother.” 

Hilda walked out toward the pair of them, stepping down from the dining hall staircase carefully just to make sure that she didn’t snag her heel on the cracked cobblestone. 

“Hey. What are you two talking about?” 

“Greetings, Hilda.” 

“Speak of devils and what happens,” Holst said through a hardy laugh. “Where’s my baby sister off to dressed like that? Don’t tell me there’s some diplomatic shindig that I’m late for….”

“I am liking this dress. You made it?” 

Hilda glanced down at the dress, grasping the corners of the cloth between her fingers and pulling it away from her legs a bit. “I altered it…a bit. I found it when going through my mother’s old stuff.”

She turned her attention to Holst. “You didn’t miss anything. I’m just going to dinner is all.” 

“Did you come to get me? I don’t think we’ve eaten together since we got here.” Holst jumped to his feet, planting his boots on the ground. 

“We did. And no I probably need to go do this alone.”

“If you’re sure about that.” 

“I am. I just wanted to let you know that your old crush is here,” Hilda said, the corner of her mouth hitching up into a sly smile.

“Old flames? You gotta give me more warning than this. Who is it?” 

“Tiana von Riegan.”

“Wait—how?” 

“That’s what I intend to figure out, but if you could let me handle this by myself it would best for now. I didn’t want you to come into the dining hall and see her and get involved. Things are probably going to be kinda tense, you know…”

“Is this about Claude?” 

Petra seemed to put the two things together. “Oh she is related to Claude then?”

“Yeah. She’s Claude’s mother.” Hilda explained.

Holst nodded. “We’re kind of running this country together, really. But you do what you’ve got to do,” said Holst. “I trust you to talk to her on your own.”

“I doubt there will be much talk about political minutia of our countries’s situations.” Hilda didn’t mean to laugh nervously, it just kind of came out that way. 

“Can you do me a favor, Petra?” Hilda asked, taking her brother by the wrist. “Can you keep him company for me?” She offered Holst’s hand out to Petra who looked her in the eye. 

The moment was short lived as there was a snag on Petra’s line, something began to pull furiously and it was Holst who stepped around Hilda and pressed in next to Petra on the dock to help her reel it in. “Whoa, you do it?” He asked as he grabbed the pole, making sure it didn’t fly out of her hands. 

Petra nodded. “We pull together on three.”

Holst glanced to his side. “You count us off.” 

Hilda backed away, watching them for a second more before she turned to head back to the dining hall. She didn’t think she needed her big brother, but the idea of meeting Claude’s mother and having a deeper conversation with her made her stomach sink. What new information could Tiana reveal that Hilda wasn’t aware of? What if it changed something fundamental that she had been sure of just hours ago the way that it had with his name or his status as an only child? 

What if this new information changed the man she knew so much that she no longer knew him. 

* * *

* * *

Claude headed back down to the dinning hall, having used his time bathing and dressing to compose himself. He had dressed in a black quilted jerkin that fastened at the chest with straps and loose fitting tan pants with boots. He kept living out that last conversation with Hilda over and over. Wondering if anything he could have said might have helped. 

The problem was that he had started things out wrong with Hilda. He had started things out with a lie. His name, the story behind who he was, the finer details about some of the things that might have given him away as a foreigner. If it weren’t for his mother there would have been no way that he could have known the things about Fódlan he did. If it weren’t for both of his parents he wouldn’t have housed those beliefs that he did. 

No.

Claude needed to push Hilda completely out of his mind, at least for now. He had thought that their time at school would be the ending of the awkward feelings around her. Then he met her again a few days ago and things were picked up right where they left off, but it was like their hormones were on Rocky Burdock. They were unable to keep their hands off of each other for a whole day after seeing each other. 

A part of him could understand why Hilda was angry. She invested time and emotion into a man that she didn’t know had a sister or even what his real name was. But the things she had brought up about their potential kids and her apprehension over that had hit too close for comfort.

Hilda was one hundred percent of Fódlan and he couldn’t claim that. Claude was straddling two different worlds and cultures. The most comfortable in his own skin that he had ever felt is when people didn’t know about one half of him. Starting out at Garreg Mach with lies had been about keeping himself safe and preserving a strong grip on the line fo succession, but he grew more comfortable with the fact that no one questioned his validity as belonging there or mocked his mother for looking different or called him names. 

And Hilda had been the anchor at Garreg Mach. She grounded him and helped him stay connected to this new world like a ship tethered on a foreign shore. He couldn’t help but care for her. Claude liked to pretend that he didn’t let himself care enough to be wounded by anyone’s words, but Hilda was the perfect kind of woman to break through his guard.

Claude made his way to the dining hall as if he were guided on a long wire. He didn’t deviate from where he needed to be, but he also didn’t speak or stop. He shambled along the cobblestone walkways as his mind wandered to thoughts of Hilda. What was this? Couldn’t he help himself? 

Why couldn’t he stop thinking about the way her hair smelled, or how the skin of her stomach was soft and warm under his hand? Why couldn’t he forget the way she squirmed when her thighs were resting on her shoulders and how she moaned, digging her heels into his back?

Claude had to come to a complete stop to make sure he doesn’t run into a woman in a habit who was walking along the walkway between the old student dormitories and the main campus area. With the festival in full swing there was always a decent sized crowd out and about. Oddly, when he arrived in the mess hall it was less crowded than outside. 

He stepped out of the doorway and surveyed the room for his mother and sister. Maybe, he thought, Flayn was still with them. She was always eager to meet and chat with new people and her light green hair would be easily spotted in the room full of people. 

There was a creamy garlic smell in the air from the Grilled Teutates Loach over long grain-rice with buttery scallion and garlic sauce that was the special for the day. He hadn’t been partial to that particular dish when he was attending the Academy, but the smell was a welcome distraction and he had to admit that he had missed some of Fódlan’s food. 

Claude spotted his mother on the side of the room nearest to the courtyards, she was speaking across the table to someone, but she made eye contact and gestured for him. Before Claude could plot a course someone stepped in beside him, their arm brushing up against his. 

“I kinda figured you would rush out here to be with your family,” Hilda said flatly, like someone had drained all of her energy away. He glanced over to see her standing next to him wearing a black dress that seemed unassuming at first glance, but flattering upon closer inspection. The pleats of the dress were uniformed and crisp, the white ribbon at the back was tied into a large, exquisite knot to match the ribbon that held up her pink hair. 

He realized only after a moment that this was a dress Hilda had made herself, it had to be. That was one of her hobbies, though she tended to shy away from advertising her skill. 

“It’s a lovely dress.” 

“Thanks.” Hilda bit her lip and rocked forward on her toes. “That jerkin is doing a lot of favors, but, um, hey let’s get over there. We’ve kept them waiting long enough, don’t you think?”

Claude nodded once in her direction. He and Hilda moved around the other edge of the dinning hall to the corner where Claude’s mother, sister, and Flayn were sitting. Flayn looked back over her shoulder and gave a cheerful little wave. “Hilda. Claude. I was wondering where you had gotten off to.” 

“We were just freshening up.” Hilda’s body stiffened. “Separately. We were separate. Of course.” She sidled up to Claude, stepping so that she was slightly behind him as if attempting to make herself less apparent. 

“Things got a little hairy this morning. We had to take care of some bandits,” Claude said. 

“Bandits?” Flayn said. 

“Yeah, you were there,” Claude said. 

“Bandits? Inside of the Monastery grounds.” Tiana stirred at the mug of coffee in front of her. “Rhea must be slipping to let that happen.” 

Farrah wrapped her arms around her mother’s bicep. “Rhea is the Archbishop you mentioned before. When do we get to meet her?” 

“You know, I haven’t seen that old coot around here yet,” Tiana said. There were a pair of extra plates between her and Flayn, she pushed them toward Claude and Hilda. “Any idea where she is?” 

Claude shrugged. “There’s no telling really. This festival is a lot to handle and then there was a kidnapping scare and the bandits I mentioned before.” 

“Those bandits better be glad that you got hold of them instead of Lady Rhea.” Tiana sat back in her chair, folding her arms. “You know, that woman accompanied the Golden Deer on a mission when I was here. We were checking out some ruins in the Oghma Mountains—some place that the church keeps off limits. Rhea tore into these bandits. She was like a whole other person.” 

“Lady Rhea?” Asked Hilda. “I don’t think that I could imagine her actually fighting.” 

“The woman is vicious,” Tiana said with a chuckle. “You would have thought that these thieves had spit in her face.” 

Flayn had been busy cutting her fish into neat little squares, but she laid her fork to the side to answer. “My brother has talked about how Lady Rhea is very determined to see that nothing bad happens to any of the Church’s holdings. Anything that did go wrong would fall upon her head.” 

Something wavered in Flayn’s voice. A half-forgotten conversation Claude had with Flayn during his days at the Academy went similar to this. Once upon a time Claude would keep notes and journals about on everything and everyone around him. It had been a habit started so that he could watch for any attempts on his life or other treacheries, but it became a way to track the mysteries around them that no one else seemed to really worry about.

Everyone had secrets. 

Claude could handle not knowing all of them, but there was just something about Flayn that seemed off. She had a birthday, but there was never talk of her age. The way she spoke and carried herself felt both naïve and, in a restrained way, mature. He couldn’t exactly drill her right here in front of his mom and sister. 

Hilda touched Claude’s hand and glanced over toward him. That look was some kind of signal, but he didn’t know what about. 

Farrah stole a piece of fish off her mother’s plate and Tiana glared at her. 

“So, Khalid has talked about you some, but even I don’t think I told him the story of the first time we met,” Tiana said. 

“We met?” Asked Hilda. 

Tiana jabbed her fork into the fish Farrah had taken and stole it back. “I was at The Throat the day you were born. I think I held you right after you mother did for a bit. You were a strong baby.”

“No one’s ever told me about that,” Hilda said.

“I broke my arm that day and ended up miles from the border. When I came back it was so short lived and then I was gone again—back to Almyra. I think that my disappearance was a topic the other Lords liked to try and ignore. It was kind of clear where I had gone, but no one wanted to look into it. The battle you were born during was one of the last large scale attacks on the Throat for a reason.” 

“You tempered Almyran relations with us…there’s even been some light trade back and forth for a while now,” said Hilda. 

“Khalid pushed it further now, he made sure that no one has attacked your borders since he left Garreg Mach. This boy is very concerned about your borders, among other things…” Tiana said, combing her hand down through her blonde locks. 

Hilda’s fork fell onto the table as she brought her hands together, writhing her fingers in front of her plate. “Clau-Khalid didn’t have a retainer really, someone to watch his back the way that Edelgard and Dimitri had—there’s no formality like that within the Alliance so I kind of picked up the slack where I could.” Hilda’s face turned bright pink as she spoke. 

“We’re close. Hilda is important to me. Very important.” Claude clutched her hand. 

Hilda lowered her eyes, but her fingers intertwined with Claude’s almost on instinct. “We just—hadn’t seen each other in so long.” 

Tiana chuckled. “Oh, no. I get it.”

“You left Fódlan and came back and then left again for good—am I correct?” Asked Flayn. “Is that how you met the King of Almyra?”

Tiana leaned back in her chair, her eyes took on this glazed over look as if she were trying to see something that was just out of sight. “Same day as this one was born,” she pointed to Hilda, “there was a battle at the Locket. Her old man was busy tending to his new baby and her brother was too young to swing a sword, so I got out on the wall to command the Goneril forces. It was storming something fierce, raining like a demonic beast pissing on the flat side of a mountain, wind strong enough to push a horse onto its ass—the whole bit.

“I spot this Wyvern rider just hammering the north ramparts and I take my Pegasus to take him out.” She starts to arrange some of the silverware and the salt and pepper shakers to build a little haphazard model of the Locket. 

“He’s the real deal. He rides this thing like part of his own body and I chase him and fight him until he decides to make like he’s going to ram me to frighten me off and I don’t move so he does almost ram me. When we both nearly collided in mid air we were lost alone for days together. Things were a little hostile at first, mostly on my part, but I had a broken arm and couldn’t fend for myself. Then I saw him shirtless and we kissed a little and things go very not hostile—I didn’t know he was fifteen when all of this happened by the way.”

Claude reached across the table and took his mother’s drink, gazing down into the goblet to see what it was before taking a swig. “You could just spare us the details of that last part.” 

“And after that you just agreed to keep courting each other?” Asked Flayn. 

“Things were a lot less traditional than that,” she said turning her attentions back to Hilda. “Everything happened so fast and then I was on the other side of the Fódlan’s Throat with Abayomi. When I came back to the Locket I didn’t know that this guy had taken root inside of me,” Tiana said pointing across the table to Claude. 

“What did you do?” Asked Flayn. 

“The second I started to show I made my way across the border and found Abayomi,” Tiana said with a chuckle. 

Claude rose from his chair, sliding it away from the table with this legs. “I’m going to go grab something to drink. Anyone else need anything? No. Okay.” He stepped around Hilda and out into the aisle between the tables headed for the far side of the room. 

* * *

* * *

Everything within the crypt was painted in a dull shade of green, Rhea would have explained to any student or partitioner who asked that it was due to a chemical that was in the torches causing the flames to burn a greenish color. The truth of the matter was much different, the torches were lit with a kind of glowing crystal that had been in abundance more than a thousand years ago. 

Rhea’s war as Seiros had a greater effect on the world than wiping out the armies of Nemesis and the humans that had bought into his blasphemy, they also saw to the loss of many techniques and technologies that had been commonplace back then. Some of them because she sought out their destruction due to thinking that they led humans astray. 

Seteth often thought that his sister went too far in her zealousness. She had somehow turned into a believer in many of her own lies, she thought herself to be the benevolent savior of this world and the only one to be able to led it and make choices for it. That was why they stood before the lifeless body of Flayn. 

He had known that his sister had done something to Flayn, but he didn’t know what exactly. If it were something to make her age faster or some kind of growth serum he could have accepted it. Flayn expressed her frustrations with her body going back to the times when Caitlín was still around. That coupled with the fact that she was stunted by her injuries took a toll on her. 

She often complained about the way others looked at her, the way people questioned her age, or commended her wisdom beyond her years when she was older than the buildings that they were standing in. 

Seteth never thought that she would take actions like this and he never thought his sister could one persuaded to help her. 

“How many people saw this?” Seteth asked. 

It was Felix that answered this. “We covered her up after we got out of the deeper part of the Abyss. I couldn’t just be seen carrying what looked like a naked corpse out of a storeroom,” he mused. 

Lucina shook her head and stepped in to ask a question. “Did we do something wrong or see something we shouldn’t have?” 

“It would seem so,” Seteth said. “Though all I can do is ask that you not let these things leave this room.” 

“I’m your girl,” Annette said with a half-hearted smile. She looked around at the students. “This is something that will happen from time to time. There are things we need to keep from others for the greater good. Sad fact, really.” 

Cynthia put the side of her fingers against her forehead in a salute. “Aye-aye! Although, I still am not all that sure what we saw.” 

Seteth looked to Rhea where she waited across the room. She hadn’t met his eyes since she entered the room. “Could you all go down and check on our prisoner. We want to see to it that the Death Knight doesn’t make one of his grandiose escapes this time.” 

It looked like Felix was about to argue the point, he met Seteth’s gaze and because of something he saw there thought the better of it. Felix motioned to the students and his wife and they exited the room single file through the door in front of him, before he stepped in behind them and closed it. 

Seteth looked down at the small body of his child, the last remaining piece of his wife Caitlín. He stared at her for long enough that everything in the crypt went silent, the students were gone with Felix. There wasn’t a sound except for the subtle dripping of water from somewhere in the distance. 

“What the Hell is wrong with you?” Seteth asked, bracing his fists down against the stone altar where Flayn’s body lay. 

“We mustn’t let this small matter bring us to anger. I only did what young Flayn wanted. She was in love. She wanted to be desirable. She wanted to be a woman for that and other reasons.” 

“You have lied to these humans so long about mother being a god that you have thought yourself right to play one yourself,” Seteth growled. 

“You would do well to hold your tongue.” 

“Where did you get the body from. The one Flayn’s essence flows through now? Is that even her in there, can you transfer a soul or is it just a copy—an approximation of what you thought Flayn should be, what she would want to be?” Seteth asked. 

“That is Flayn.” 

“I had wondered for so long why she seemed to distant and why she had grown to hate me so. And now I have reason to believe that once again your meddling in matters that have nothing to do with you might have ruined my life.” 

“Your daughter is angered with you because of how you regard the girl, it has nothing to do with me.” 

“She should be angry at you, your endless thirst for revenge killed her mother, it drove her uncles away, it drove our people away. I stood by your because you were my baby sister, but I’ve called Flayn sister so long that I’ve realized that she has pretended to be a better sister than you ever were. You were always trouble, you were always getting into more than you could handle, and it was always me that had to clean up after your messes and bandage your wounds!” 

It was fast, maybe he had forgotten it because it had been so long since he saw Rhea’s ferocity come out. For the first time in centuries he looked into the eyes of Seiros. Her expression changed as she twisted hard enough that her green hair flared out and Rhea punched him in the jaw knocking him to the rough stone floor. 

Seteth glared up at her from the ground, holding his jaw, as the tinny taste of blood filled his mouth. “Tell me something, Seiros, who is Sitri’s father?” 

“Don’t call me that.” 

“Where did you get her from?” He got up onto his knees to get back to his feet. “I’m gone for years and you suddenly have a child, you suddenly have the ability to connect with someone to the point that you develop a relationship? No, the last time you showed interest in a man it was Jeralt—you told me about him when you visited Flayn and I in hiding. And we know where his attentions turned.” 

Tears streamed down Rhea’s cheeks. “Why are you doing this?” 

“Because you can’t keep pursing this mother’s resurrection. You can’t keep experimenting on people and using them.” 

“Cethleann was not an experiment. She’s my niece. I love her and I wanted to see her happy,” said Rhea. 

“Without seeing a chance to benefit your own, let’s be honest here, selfish goals?”

“Yes.” 

“I’ll tell you want I think happened,” said Seteth. “I think you saw a chance to get your hands on a genuine Nabatean body and you figured it would bring you one step closer to reuniting us with Sothis.”

Rhea shook her head. “You think so little of me then?” 

“You’ve lost your way, this much is clear,” Seteth said. “I thought you had lost that rage, but I’ll have the bruise to prove that isn’t true soon enough.” 

“I apologize for my attack.” 

“I’m going to go check on Jeritza. If your granddaughter finds out he is in our custody she might let him out just to fight him one last time and see who is the better,” Seteth said as he walked away. 

* * *

* * *

Hilda brought her elbows up on the table in front of her, keeping her hands clasped and resting her cheek against them. Her pink eyes followed Claude as he cross the room, following the path where they sat out to the side wall and then taking it around the outside edge of the dining hall. And as she watched him, she could feel Tiana watching her even as she kept speaking. 

“Abayomi kind of shattered my preconceptions straight away. When I entered into the fight with him over the border I didn’t know he was next in line for the throne of Almyra. You know, Khalid is his spitting image.”

The muscles just below Hilda’s neck tightened, pulling her shoulder blades together. She kept her gaze locked on a random spot in the distance after Claude passed out of sight and kept listening to Tiana, just knowing the woman was staring right into her. 

The previous relationships that Hilda had been in had either led to her at least coming in contact with the person’s parents if she hadn’t already known them, but none of that felt as intense as sitting across from Claude’s mother. 

Flayn sighed wistfully. “Claude is quite the looker to be honest. I’ll admit that being the first thing thing that came to mind when I met him, but he regarded me as odd and I think he feared what my brother might do,” she said before pushing a piece of fish into her mouth with her fingers. 

Hilda forgot herself for a moment. “Probably because Seteth was a lunatic when it came to keeping men away from you. He probably would have heated his lance up on the wood stoves and slid it into…Claude’s ears.” 

Tiana giggled. “You don’t have to be so on guard.”

“Sorry. This is kind of a lot, especially since I was up most of the night and when I use my Crest it always kind of makes me feel even more tired.”

“Understood. I do have a straight forward question for the both of you: when did you realize where Khalid was from?” 

“The major thing holding most of us back what we really want is the worry about the way others view us and the way that others would view the choices that we make. I didn’t know until he told us near the end of the year and I understand his reasoning behind that choice.” 

“When did you realize where Khalid was from, Hilda?” Asked Tiana. 

“I don’t know that I’ve ever thought back on it really,” she took a deep breath. “I think he meant for me to figure it out, like, to see if I caught on. I got it right away. After we realized it wasn’t a secret anymore we never really went back to it.” 

Tiana used her fork to slide a steamy, flaky chunk of fish off of the bone and scoop it into her mouth. “Was that so hard? Now why didn’t she want to share that?” She asked Flayn.

“I don’t know,” she replied.

Hilda shoveled a piece of her own fish into her mouth. “

“What else happened between you and King Abayomi?” Asked Flayn. 

“You’ll have to excuse Flayn—she’s a bit of a hopeless romantic,” Hilda said.

Tiana glanced down at Flayn. “Bit of an odd problem to have after you’re already married.” She nodded toward Flayn’s hand, acknowledging the wedding ring on her finger. 

“For so much of my life I was alone with old books and all I did was read stories of the wondrous romances where people were swept off their feet by the person of their dreams. It’s become a significant part of me,” Flayn said. 

Hilda sighed. “You’re, like, twenty-two and you always talk like you’re this ancient woman…” 

“I have been called an old soul,” Flayn said. 

Tiana smiled over at Flayn, it was the same kind of smile that Claude had. “I don’t really see it as a bad thing at all.” 

“Why thank you, Lady Tiana.” 

“You’re welcome,” Tiana said. 

“Besides, we should be focused on blossoming romance—like what’s happening between you and Claude.” 

Hilda could have killed Flayn. Right then and there. Sure, she was unarmed, but she could surely beat the girl to death, even though they were roughly the same size. To keep from screaming out, Hilda grabbed for a nearby glass of water and drank furiously. 

Farrah seemed to come to life on the other side of her mother. “Things are starting to get _very_ interesting now.” She leaned forward, dragging the chair closer to the table with her. 

It was unclear how much water was in this glass, it wasn’t her glass after all. She had just grabbed for a cup and because of that she didn’t know if there was enough water for her to reasonably delay her answer any longer. Hilda kept her eyes locked on them across the table as she continued to drink. Oh, who was she kidding—there wasn’t enough water in the world to keep her drinking long enough to stave off this question long enough. 

“Let’s not put her on the spot like this,” Tiana said. “She’s going to go at her own pace, but I can definitely tell what Khalid sees in you.” 

Hilda lowered the glass just enough to speak, her voice echoed back at her through what was left of the water. “Thank you, but it really doesn’t feel like I deserve your praise given how things are.”

When she glanced to her side, Hilda could see Claude navigating his way toward them down the aisle between the tables. She rose from the table, dropping her silverware and napkin into the plate. “I’m sorry, excuse me.” 

She could feel her chest heaving up and down. There was a strange, tight weight in her stomach that made her think maybe she was going to throw up or faint if she didn’t get out of this dining hall. 

“It’s been wonderful meeting you Lady Riegan, Farrah—I’ll see you all soon, I’m sure.” 

Without waiting for their reply, Hilda moved toward the massive cart where the plates and silverware were separated out from the food and garbage. Procedures dictated that the silverware be used to clear excess debris from the plate, then placed into the bucket inside of the cart while the plate is placed in another section.

She dropped the whole thing haphazardly into cart and headed out the double doors at the end of the dining hall. Her heart was pounding harder now and that heat had spread all over her body. Alongside the hedges, Hilda doubled over with her hands on her knees, drinking in the air. 

“Are you okay?” Came a familiar voice. 

Hilda looked up to see a tan face and reddish brown eyes staring down at her. “Cyril? Oh, no…”

“Whoa, it looks like you’re not doing so well, Hilda. Let’s get you to Mercedes’s Office,” Cyril said, taking her by one hand and grabbing her around the shoulder to lead her away. 


	20. A Lily’s Poise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kind of a Flayn and Elise chapter

High-heeled boots clicked against slick cobblestone as Elise walked down the slender path between the towering buildings on the north-eastern edge of the monastery. Even when it wasn’t raining, it was always shaded here, always secluded. Grass grew up between the stones and jutted up through any cracks. After nearly a year at Garreg Mach, the gaps in Rhea’s campus beautification and the areas she placed importance in really showed.

The Church of Seiros Millennium Celebration had only been coming for the last thousand years; there had been ample time to prepare the entirety of the grounds for the festivities. Rarely was there more than a lone guard near the stairs that led down to the small plateau where the cemetery was situated. On this particular day there was just a couple cuddled up under an umbrella beneath the tree near the top of the steps. 

They paid Elise no mind as she descended to the burial area, being sure to be mindful of how narrow the risers were and the places where time had separated them or made them uneven. 

Lord Garon von Nohr didn’t take a wife so much as he plied different women for heirs with the promise of financial security and the chance at a child with prestigious Crest. Elise’s mother had been one of those women, a Sister in the Church of Seiros that had lived a life of strict devotion until her family needed favor to save her brother from execution. 

She had a child by to his assistance and though that heir had a strong connection to the Crest of Anankos, Garon neglected to save her brother. And she resented Elise until the day she took her own life. 

Five years had passed since then. Elise’s mother had requested that she was buried at Garreg Mach Monastery. Elise had been here she had come to see this grave only three times since being at the Officers Academy. She didn’t know why she bothered to come at all. It had been her older half-brothers and Camilla who looked after her. It had been the wet nurse Cassita who practically raised her. 

The grave was in the furthest north east corner of the cemetery made of simple engraved headstone.

“Sister Margery Blankenship - devoted mother and servant of the Goddess.” The voice was one that she was sure that she knew, but in the moment she couldn’t place it because of the circumstances. 

Elise glanced back over her shoulder to see Clair Alexandria de Constatine standing with her arms pressed down to her sides. The cloak that she wore kept her hair and most of her face protected from the rain, but she wasn’t so hidden that it was hard to tell who she was or see the perfectly maintained blonde hair peeping from around the edges of the hood. 

Hair that Elise was sure Clair didn’t need her big sister to style for her. 

“Salutations, Lady Elise. Pardon the intrusion.”

“It’s quite alright.” 

“I’ve never seen you come down this way before. It felt as if you were troubled by something. I thought I might be of assistance.”

“Not unless you can change the past.” 

“I can’t.” Clair stopped next to Elise. “Who was she to you? Sister Blankenship?” 

“My mother.” 

“Your father married a sister of the Church of Seiros?” 

“Father didn’t marry, really. He had many—heirs by many women. My oldest brother was born crestless, so my father looked elsewhere to find a way to pass on our birthright. Fortunately for him my sister, myself and my other brother all bore crests, but none of us share a mother.” 

“I can see why he would be fearful that his bloodline might not survive with the Crest of Anankos being one of the Agnostic Crests. ” said Clair. 

The wind shifted so that the angle of the rain changed. Without the cover of the ledge alongside the stairs their bodies were being pelted with rain, though Clair’s cloak protected her. 

“Were you out here to visit someone’s grave?” Elise asked, seeing this as her chance to change the subject. 

“Was just passing by,” Clair said. “I’m without a clue what to do with myself what with my charge gone and me left here to look after her belongings.”

Elise nodded. “My sister is on the same mission. I wouldn’t worry about Lucina being gone too long. Camilla hates to be away for longer than she has to.” 

Clair turned toward the stairs, gesturing for Elise to follow. “It would do us both some good to get out of this rain, what do you say?” She offered her hand out to Elise. 

“Sure.” 

As they moved toward the center of campus the rain picked up, the droplets seemed to grow larger and they hit with more force. Everything around them was slick wet and painted with muted colors and there wasn’t a soul in sight. It was almost like things before the Millennium Celebration kicked off. Things were quiet; Elise had loved the campus back then.

They jogged and Elise just ended up following behind Clair, sticking to the path where the older girl led her until they clambered through the door of Clair’s room into the dry warmth of the dorms. Clair was quick to strip out of her cloak and hang it near the door on one of the hooks jutting out of the wall. Miraculously she was dry practically everywhere above the knees. 

“You lucked out.” Elise said. 

Clair shrugged. “When you’re on the back of a Pegasus all high up in the air proper rain protection is key. Lord Chrom got me this cloak before I left.” 

“Shatter Ship Chrom of House Lowell?” Elise asked, her excitement apparent in her voice. 

“He really despises that name,” Clair said with a chuckle. 

“Oh man, that’s got to be so awesome though. Knowing a brave hero like that, studying under him, training to protect his family…” 

“I just kind of grew up in that life. I’ve known Lady Lucina since we were children and I can even remember a time when Lady Sumia would take Cynthia and sit her in my lap, propped up against my chest. I was too small to carry her, but she would rest on me like that. She looked like a little bean all curled up.” 

“I love babies. I just…don’t get to see them much. I’m the youngest of House Nohr and I probably won’t get to be around a child in any real way until my brothers or sister wed and have one of their own.” 

Elise wrapped her hands around herself, grabbing hold of her arms at the elbows in an attempt to keep warm. Her skin was wet and the rain had soaked into her clothes already. Maybe it had been unwise to go out unprepared. 

“Who knows? Maybe you’ll beat them to the altar?” Clair walked to the huge white armoire in the corner of the room and opened it. She pulled on the brass handles of one of the draws inside and produced a large, dark blue fluffy towel from within it which she turned spread open to wrap around Elise. 

“Oh, thank you. And I doubt it,” she said with a small, nervous laugh. “No suitor is going to pass Camilla by for the likes of me.” 

Clair stared at her for a moment, as if she were trying to figure some unknown truth about her. And then she just passed the entire second statement by. “I just thought that you looked cold.” 

“Do you have any brothers or sisters?” Elise asked. 

“An older brother. Clive. He’s serving alongside Lord Chrom, protecting the northern border of the Kingdom.” 

“Oh.” 

“He’s far older than me…not that far, but by the time that I came along he was slated to become the heir to House Constatine. Typically they would have sought out some kind of vocational training for me, perhaps set me up with something in the Church of Seiros but the only thing that I ever wanted for myself was to be a Knight.”

Elise nodded. “I’m not brave, like you. But, for as long as I can remember, my magic aptitude was all anyone would talk—supporting others just comes natural.” 

“My apologies. The truth of the matter is that my brother became a knight and his friends. I just loathe being left out. I think that when I asked Father he thought it was some passing fancy, that I would quit shortly after seeing how difficult it was. No one actually expected bravery of me.” 

“You sure have the makings of a hero from what I’ve seen,” Elise said. 

“As do you, Lady Elise,” Clair said. “Going into the fray with naught but a staff in hand to help your comrades is, to me at least, true bravery.” 

“Aww, well thank you.” 

They sat in silence for a moment, the patter of the rain against the overhanging awning of the dorms drowning out the sounds of the campus around them and their breathing. 

“Evening bells haven’t rung yet,” Clair said after several seconds. “It feels like it’s later than it is.” 

“There just hasn’t been much sun today.” 

“It’s just as well, perfect weather to study by, or take a nap is one is feeling devilish,” Clair said. “Not me, of course, but would you like to head to the dinning hall for an early supper? There will be crowds of pilgrims if we don’t go soon and…” 

Elise cut her off. “Oh! I would love to. I think I didn’t notice I was starving until you spoke of food.” 

“Well, there’s no use in us delaying any longer then, is there?” Clair proclaimed. “If we hurry they might even let us stand by the cook fires in the kitchen to better dry off.” 

* * *

* * *

At times her hands would just start to shake again, the way they had in the first days after Hanneman had been stabbed and it became apparent that they might actually lose him. The thought of him laying there now, with a wound that mirrored her own from five years previous was little comfort. But the fact that he was alive and getting stronger every hour quieted some of her fears. 

The rest would have to be handed with copious amounts of mead.

Hanneman shook his head, though he was careful about even that small gesture. It obviously still hurt so much to move. 

“Is it odd that I am so tired. You think that spending days sleeping would mean I’df be wide awake now.” 

“It’s not like you could get a good nights rest with strange poison coursing through your body,” said Manuela, the glass still against her lips so that she could immediately take another swig. 

He was silent for a moment and Manuela caught her self reaching up onto the bed to feel his hand, just to make sure that he gripped her fingers back. 

“Have you told anyone about what I saw before…” 

“No, I’ve been in this room or since right after your awakened,” she said.

Hanneman turned to look toward the window. “I might have said something to Sitri Eisner.” 

“Don’t worry a bit about her, she’s a smart cookie. Plus, it’s not like we’re really sure you saw what you saw.” 

“It makes sense though. It’s why I was attacked and it answers some interesting questions about Lady Edelgard.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“I’ve been thinking that in all of the year she was here we never formally examined her Crest. That’s not unusual, but she is on the record as having a Crest of Seiros, not a spectacular thing in and of itself, but something about that child has always bothered me and I didn’t put it together until now. When she was a wee one I had an opportunity to meet her, House Essar was prominent enough to be afforded such luxuries, and her hair and skin were different.” 

Manuela chuckled, swirling her drink around in one hand. “Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but I am not sure I follow.” 

“Lysithea is to date the only other person I have encountered with more than one Crest in her bloodline and she has hinted that when it was forced upon her that it caused biological changes such as a lose of hair color and skin pigment.” 

“You think that Edelgard is like Lysithea and her child? She possesses a hidden crest?” 

“It is the most logical conclusion that we can come to in all of this. She and Lysethia look more like siblings despite having no familial relation because of the fact that they have the same affliction and she kept her second crest from us more than likely to keep from drawing attention to herself.” 

Manuela sighed. “If a person could be given a second crest there would be a potential to create potent warriors.” 

“And if someone had three crests it would make them similar to a god.”

“There was one other troubling thing. The child has inherited her mother’s Crest of Seiros, but she also has a Crest of Blaiddyd, and, perhaps more troubling, a Crest of Flames.” 

Manuela stared at him for several seconds. “A Crest of Flames…you mean like the one from the stories about Nemesis.” 

Hanneman nodded. “There’s never been any indication it was even a real thing and there was surely no signs that Nemesis had a descendant.”

Manuela’s expression flattened. “Yes. You’ve recounted the story to me dozens of times. It seems your exciting find finally happened—who knew that thing was still being passed down.” 

“But it couldn’t have been. Anselma von Arundel was Edelgard’s mother and she herself was Crestless. Her family had only a few minor instances of crest blood in their ranks and they were pretty far between. I think someone put this crest there.” 

“What do you say we confront Edelgard directly or should we ask Dimitri—I think the idea that those two…well the implication there is far more interesting to me at least.” 

Hanneman sighed. “If crests can be given through some method there’s no way of knowing for sure if the child was given the Crest of Blaiddyd or if it was passed along naturally. It’s best not to bring more prying eyes into this than we have to, I think even alerting Lady Rhea might be taking things too far.” 

Something gave Manuela pause. “Lord Arundel helped to save you, Edelgard is his niece, is that not correct?”

“That is correct.” 

“Why not start by subtly questioning him. He might not be aware of what Edelgard is and if that’s the case it will give you an avenue to question things about his family and her parentage.”

Hanneman pressed his hands down into his lap above the covers, turning to look out of the window. “It’s weird, Sitri was adamant that I avoid being around Arundel. She said she couldn’t tell me why, but that I had to trust her.” 

“There’s something strange going on here and I feel like we’re just nipping at the edges of it,” said Manuela 

“Even then, Arundel is a man that I have little to no association with. I would trust Sitri’s words in regards to being at the very least cautious around him.” 

* * *

* * *

Dinner had turned into a bit of an awkward mess, Flayn had to wonder if her presence had contributed to things. After Hilda left the table things had wound down until the awkwardness had become too much for her to stand. 

There wasn’t much for her to do, if she had headed straight back to the room it would possibly mean that she would walk in on a half-sleep Eithle and wake her up. The excitement of seeing mommy would surely give her sufficient energy to last a few hours. Flayn walked aimlessly around the dining hall, following the paths between the hedges until her legs seemingly on instinct carried her to small hut next to the dock that jutted out into the fishing pond. 

She stood with her ands behind her back, fingers interlaced, and watched Petra and Holst Goneril as they took turns fishing. Time passed at an immeasurable speed as it always seemed to when she watched others fish. Fishing had held less pleasure for her since she had left the Monastery. Dedue would offer to take her for the first few months, but he soon stopped because she always refused. 

Memories of happier times with her mother and father were so intertwined with the activity that she was sure that she couldn’t do it herself anymore. How long had it been since she had stopped to watch someone? 

The fish were really biting today. In a short amount of time she watched Petra pull two Loach. They were sizable with shimmery scales and she wobbled it back and forth in front of Holst’s face. 

“I have the victory,” Petra gloated with a small chuckle.

“Okay. Okay. I have to give it up for the master angler,” Holst said before he jokingly bowed to her. 

Multiple life times ago in a Fódlan unrecognizable from the current one, there was a similar argument, done in jest of course, between Caitlín and Cichol, her mother and father. Her mother was always better at fishing and really any other thing that had to do with being in nature. After all of this time she could vividly picture her mother cleaning a fish, or threading the line through her hook and fixing bait to it. 

But she couldn’t really remember the sound of her voice. 

Sometimes she couldn’t remember the way her mother looked exactly and she feared one day that she would be too old to remember her mother at all. History had already forgotten her. Her father never spoke of her. Maybe she was next? 

“Flayn…” 

She rose to her feet and turned, her body moving on her own at the sound of her father’s voice. 

“I was hoping that I would find you here.” 

Flayn fiddled with her fingers, pulling her hands close to her stomach as if to hide her nervousness. “I spent much of my time at the Monastery around here.” 

“I know that…” Seteth trailed off, glancing to his sides before clearing his throat to try again. “We really ought to speak somewhere privately.” 

For a fleeting moment she debated refusing. She could go back to Dedue and her room and face her very awake daughter if it came to that, but it was better than rehashing the same issues over and over. 

“Please, it’s very important,” he said.

They made their way to the little area just south of the stables and to the north of the market, the sound of the animals and the people in the market would drown out almost anything being spoken of. Something about his demeanor said that this was different than the other times they had one of these little talks. 

“I know what you had Rhea do.” Seteth checked around the corners to see if anyone was nearby. 

Flayn froze, twisting her dress in her hands. “What?” 

“The body—I’ve know for a long time. I knew that you couldn’t grow like this and it’s not because you’re young. When you were injured after the war and had to sleep for so long, it suspended your aging. You were frozen in times for centuries and your body couldn’t age. Then one day you show up and tell me that you looked like this, I just knew that it had to be Rhea and one of her damned experiments.” 

“Why would you think to raise these accusations now?” 

“Accusations? Are they not true?” 

“That’s besides the point. You acted as if there were some dire new problem, but you bring up no information I didn’t already know except for the fact that you lied about knowing what was happening.”

“You lied about what you did and for what?” 

“To be with the man I love, Father!” Flayn yelled, realizing her mistake only too late. “I mean, you’re treating me like you are my father. You’re not,” she said in a desperate attempt to recover. 

Seteth, taken aback, stumbled slightly as if the words themselves had slammed against his body. 

“I am not here to deny your love of Dedue, he seems like he has been a fine man and has only done everything that I wish a husband for you would. I just wanted to ask you,” he leaned down to speak into her ear, “what do you think Rhea did with your old body?” 

Flayn felt her blood run cold. 

Seteth continued speaking. “The Death Knight was apprehended early today by a group of students and in his care we found you, or the you that used to be.” 

“The Death Knight?” Flayn asked. 

“We are working to keep things from becoming too public of knowledge. Only a few people on the whole campus really know about it. I think that Mercedes and Byleth are down there right and it would seem that other than being your kidnapper and assailant he is also the half brother of Mercedes.” 

“I don’t understand. Why did he have my body? What was he doing?” 

Seteth said nothing. 

“You shouldn’t think too much on it,” Seteth said, taking her by the shoulders gently. “This is you now.” He stared into her eyes for a long time. 

“What?” Flayn asked. Her eyes were brimming with tears and even then she wondered why he was looking at her with a confusing mix of pride and sadness. 

“It’s just—did Rhea have to make you look so much like Caitlín?” Asked Seteth. 

Flayn couldn’t face him like this. She just couldn’t do any of this right now. She touched the side of Seteth’s face. “I—can we discuss this another time?” She asked. 

He nodded. 

“Maybe we could speak tomorrow over tea. There’s just been, well, a lot of revelations,” said Flayn. 

“I understand.” 

“I must be getting back to Eithle,” said Flayn. 

“Do you think that, perhaps, you could bring little Eithle with you?” 

Flayn smiled. “I think that she would enjoy that.” 

* * *

* * *

Mercedes placed the cloth on the table before them and unfolded it to reveal the food within. Her eyes fell on the man across the table from her, his body thin and sickly and the area around his eyes sunken and dark. She barely recognized him as Jeritza, the former fencing instructor for the Academy and there was nothing there from Emile, the younger brother that she had left behind at House Bartels all of those years ago. 

“I apologize about the food, they wouldn’t allow any glassware in here for obvious reasons so I got what I could of the things it would be acceptable for you to eat with your hands and put them in a napkin.” 

The Death Knight glanced down at the items in the cloth, a few slivers of bread, cookies, and some cake.

“You always did love sweets,” Mercedes said. 

Emile said nothing to her.

She pushed the blonde hair out of her face. “There was a time when I would have advocated for your release in the hopes that you would fall on your knees and beg for the forgiveness of the Goddess,” she averted her gaze for just a second and made a small, bitter noise. “Those were really the musing of a little girl. I think I can finally see now that you were never going to be the little brother I left behind.” 

Emile stared up at her. 

“Maybe it’s mother’s fault for letting you stay in that place or mine for never bothering to go back and find you, but the past there’s nothing that can be done to change that. I think the poison of that place is all that’s left inside of you anymore.” 

Mercedes looked to the door, wondering if Byleth or anyone else was outside listening. She had kept this from Byleth all this time, lied to her own wife to protect an insane murderer. 

“I knew it was you. I knew from the moment that I saw you in the training grounds with Felix and the others. Maybe you’re too young to even remember me. Maybe all of those memories were taken from you.” 

“I desire…my face…” he said finally, his words slow and monotone. He dragged his fingers across the space right in the center of his face where his eyes were, as if to indicate something that was missing. 

“You didn’t have to become this,” Mercedes said. “You were already at the Monastery, already safe. You could have been anything you wanted and Lady Rhea and the others would have saw to it that you were taken care of.”

His breathing became deep and erratic. “Will they…kill me?” 

The thought hadn’t occurred to Mercedes, or if it had, she had tried not to think about it. Rhea had executed people for less. “Probably, yes,” she said finally.

“Good. To kill, to die; to know one without the other would be maddening.”

Mercedes sighed. “So that’s it then, you’ve already given up?” 

She would have been shocked by any response that he gave at this point, but he said nothing. His sunken eyes stayed locked on her for long enough that she felt the need to avert her gaze. 

“Seteth told me that you were found with something, but they won’t exactly explain what it was.” 

“Return her to me; she is mine.” His tone changed completely there, where as he had been level and subdued before at the mention of whatever this ‘her’ was he came alive. 

“Who is she?” 

“Dear sweet Flayn. She came back to me,” he told her. 

Most of what Emile said made no sense. When she had seen him as the Death Knight he seemed like a different person, one who inhabited this body but had a distinct confidence and energy. The man before her looked and felt defeated and, though he spoke with the same manner of theatrics he made far less sense. 

The handle of the door to the room rattled as someone went to open the door. “Just give her a bit more time. Just give her some time!” Byleth’s voice was barely muffled, like she was right on the outside of the door. When the door was thrown open two figures pushed their way past Byleth. 

Mercedes did not recognize this new and man and woman. They were in sleek black uniforms with silver trim that bore a gold, embroidered Church of Seiros insignia on the right breast and shoulders. One of the pair, the man, stepped toward Mercedes as he straightened the hat atop his light purple hair. 

“Who are you?” Asked Mercedes.

“Holy Inquisitor’s Office.” His voice was richer, deeper than she expected. “Yuri Leclerc—Mercedes was it?” 

She nodded just as the realization that she had not given her name to this person met them before washed over her. 

“You’re going to want to take a rest, friend,” said Yuri. “Let us handle things from here.” 

“Handle what exactly?” Asked Mercedes.

“I’d like to know the answer to that too,” said Byleth. “And considering you know who she is I’m sure you know who my grandmother is.” 

The woman who had entered with Yuri, the dark skinned Inquisitor with long, deep red hair that was done up in an elegant crown braid, carried no weapon on her person. Mercedes guessed she was a magic user, though she sensed something different about her. 

Yuri had a sword jutting out of the belt pulled tight around his tunic. The weapon looked old, but expensive, like it was an important heirloom to someone. Everything about him was relaxed and easy going, enough so that it made Mercedes more cautions as she spoke. 

“Please, listen to Yuri-bird. This is just for everyone’s good,” said the woman.

“This has the makings of the damnable woman written all over it,” Emile muttered just enough above the sounds of the room that she could hear him. “You don’t know what she is; what this church is.” 

“That still wouldn’t excuse the things you’ve done. You’ve attacked my wife. You’ve attacked this school. And you kidnapped my friend all those years ago.” 

Emile hung his head. “Was working with them—I just wanted to be safe. Here is the only place I can be safe.” 

“You’re not making sense,” Mercedes said.

“Should we really keep letting her have a go at it like this?” Asked the Inquisitor woman.

“No. You’re going to have to leave Mercedes Eisner,” said Yuri.

“Let me speak to Empress Edelgard.” It was the first clear sentence that Emile had managed in a while. Emile was technically a citizen of the Empire, as was she when she last took up permanent residence in a place that she could call her own all of those years ago. Perhaps he wanted to try and curry favor by bringing his nation’s ruler into the mix, but Mercedes sensed it was something else altogether.

Byleth plowed through the door now, hand on the weapon at her hip. “Why would you bring my former pupil into this?” Her tone of voice boomed now. 

In a flash Yuri was blocking Byleth’s way, shoulder turned to face her and his hand on the hilt of his own weapon. “Let’s not go this route. Someone could get hurt. The Archbishop herself called us in on this. She wants to get to the bottom of something for the good of all Fódlan.”

Mercedes moved to Byleth’s side and was about to speak, when Byleth took the word out of her throat. 

“We should probably let them work,” Byleth said, taking Mercedes by the arm. There was an earnest gentleness in the way she touched her, even more than there normally would have been. It was as if she were afraid of pushing her further over the edge. 

They exited the room, moving through the basement area below the main building of the Monastery. This dungeon was off limits to most of the population of the school. The fact that it existed it hardly came up in conversation, but that was the thing about a place as ancient and expansive as Garreg Mach there was no telling how many secrets and old structures were buried below any given thing. 

Where they found Emile proved that. 

Mercedes struggled to keep up with Byleth as they ascended the staircase toward the wrought iron gate that blocked off this sub-level. She used her free hand to lift her habit out away from her ankles to keep it from disrupting her gait so that she could jog to keep up. 

Byleth slammed her fist against the bars. “We need to be let out,” she said. 

There had been guards along the dungeon paths when Mercedes had come through originally. Two at the end of the hall where her brother’s cell was and one at ever other turn and major door. They weren’t even using the normal guards, they were higher ranked Knights within the church and for some reason Archbishop Rhea had ordered that no one without a Crest even be allowed into the dungeons now. 

Other than the obvious abilities that a crest granted the user, Mercedes couldn’t think of a reason for them to restrict people without Crest from going anywhere. A Crest didn’t protect from anything except for being turned into a monster by contact from Crest stones. 

The hinges wrought iron gate squeaked roughly as the guard opened the gate. Before they could step out into the full torchlight of passage way a familiar brusk tone called out to them. 

“Professor Eisner, Lady Eisner.” 

Mercedes turned as Catherine called out to the two of them. “Oh, Catherine. Is something the matter?” Asked Mercedes. 

Catherine looked them up and down, studying them intently for a few moments before nodding to the guard. “Okay, they’ve both got Crests.”

“Of course we do,” Byleth said. 

Catherine put the back of her hand to her head and sighed. “Just a precautionary measure. I’m sure you can understand.” 

Mercedes did. When enemies could appear as anyone else there probably was a rush to devise a way to tell people apart from someone who might be a duplicate. Monica, Tomas; they were both Crestless. It might have been that they were chosen because that was one thing that these people couldn’t fake. 

“I think I get it,” Byleth said with a nod to the guard and Catherine. 

When the two of them had some distance between the door to the dungeon and the guards, Byleth turned and glanced over at her wife. “Do you want to talk about what happened down there?” 

Mercedes glanced over at Byleth. “I don’t know what there is to say.” 

“How long did you know?” 

“Emile…I have suspected since when he took Flayn and disappeared underground five years ago. Jertiza always felt familiar to me.” 

“He one time said to me after sparring that he thought he knew you from somewhere. Jeritza was so awkward and, well, kind of crazy and I assumed he was just saying stuff. He never seemed to make sense.” 

“I only kept this from you because—“

“Your brother is a murderous maniac who terrorized our school for the better part of a semester and who has raided villages, homes, and cities. On top of that he has just showed up to fight with me and you weren’t one hundred percent sure that Jertiza, the man we knew to be the Death Knight, was also your brother. I can totally understand why you kept this to yourself.” 

“We’re not supposed to keep anything from each other. You are all of me and I am all of you. In the eyes of the Goddess we are of one body and soul.” 

Byleth wrapped her hand around Mercedes’s waist, squeezing her hip and pressing her back into the wall of the hallway and kissed her. “You know that I’m not upset at you, right?” She said the moment the connection between their lips had been broken. 

Mercedes nodded. “As far as I am concerned, my brother is dead.” 

* * *

* * *

Flayn tried the handle of the door to her room to see if it was locked before opening it fully and quietly. When she peeked through the crack of the door she spotted Dedue sitting on the bed with Eithle laying on a pallet across the room. He smiled over at her and she forced a smile back. 

“Let me guess, you were playing over there and she fell asleep?” Flayn asked just loud enough for him to hear. 

“I feared that in moving her there would be a good chance that she would wake and I would be right back where I started,” Dedue said. He studied her face as she crossed the room. “Is something the matter?” He scooted forward on the bed, his legs bunching up against his chest as the wrinkles of concern on his brow became more apparent. 

“Yes. It’s just.” 

Dedue climbed off of the bed, she saw him push a book aside as he went to meet her. “Are you sure? Cethleann?” 

She pressed herself against him, so hard that his arms would have to wrap around her because otherwise there was the risk that she would plow him over. When she was encircled in him with his face was pressed against her hair and whispers of ‘it’ll be okay’ spilling from his lips she knew it was safe to collapse now. 

Her knees buckled and Dedue caught hold of her, his fingers felt hot against her skin. “What happened?” 

“They caught the Death Knight.” She said this as if explained everything else bundled up inside of her, as if it explained the tightness and dread in her chest. 

“That’s great news. After all these years he’s been…” 

“Yeah.” If she told him the rest of the story his mood might sour. If she told him of what they found with the Death Knight, what he had carried around like a doll, there was no way to be sure that Dedue wouldn’t burst into that dungeon and beat him to death himself. He was an angry man, maybe at one time he had been or had the potential to be, but she thought that if he knew what had been implied he would get his knuckles bloody for her, to defend her honor. 

As if such a thing could be defended really. That was nothing more than a lofty ideal from story books and old tales about knights. 

“How do I look to you?” Flayn asked. 

“Beautiful,” Dedue said without a breath’s hesitation. 

“No, I mean, do I look like me? Do I look like the woman you met five years ago?”

“Yes. What’s this all about?” Dedue asked. 

Flayn wiggled her arm up out of his grasp, reaching up to the piece of her dress that was just covering the round part of her shoulder. She tugged down on it, pulling until the sleeve slipped down over her hand. 

“I need you,” she said.

To hear Flayn tell it, she didn’t have a sexy side. There was nothing sultry about her, but there was tone of voice that she could use and a way that she could speak that Dedue responded to. She really didn’t think that she could control it, it just came out like that. 

Dedue had pulled his body back from hers a little, her looked down at her exposed nearly exposed breast. “The Spirits know it has been too long…”

Flayn nodded. “If I recall, you rebuked me last time.” 

He had rebuked her years ago too. At that dance five years prior, he had wanted to kiss her. He had looked into her eyes and touched her hair and when she waited, when she tried with all her being to will his lips down to hers he paused. Maybe he hadn’t been attracted to her then. Maybe he couldn’t see past how she had looked. 

Though she lied, downplayed the fact that she had seen more moons than all of the students present at the academy back then would in all their lives combined, people still regarded her as a child. They feared even getting close to her because of what Seteth would do. 

Back then she existed without the raw kind of inborn desirability of a normal adult. She had all of the poise of a lily; a kind of elegance and purity that she now knew had been forced on her by circumstance. With Rhea’s help all that she had done was grasp control over her own body, force her life to go where she wanted it. 

At least in part. 

And she wouldn’t be rebuked again. 

“I’ve had an idea.” Flayn reached up and tugged the other sleeve of her dress down. She unfasten her brassière and let it fall into her hands. There was a subtle sting around her body where the edges of the garment had pressed into her skin.

She shimmied out of her dress the rest of the way, working it down until it dropped past her hips and knees and crumpled in a little ring around her on the floor. Flayn shuffled forward, stepping out of her clothing and pointed back over her shoulder toward the paned double doors that led out to the balcony. 

“We could go out there to make sure that we don’t wake her.” she said. 

Dedue bobbed his head once in agreement and, as quietly as he had probably ever moved, went to the bed and grabbed up a pillow. He rushed back to her, his footfalls light and deliberate. As he reached Flayn he wrapped his arms around her, squeezing her and the pillow together as they charged for the doors. 

Flayn let out a light squeal in excitement, Dedue pressed her up against the wall next to the door and put his lips to hers, muffling out any further sound. 

He moved down to kiss her neck, the pillow smashed between their bodies now. His fingers swept through Flayn’s hair, slowly unfurling the long, loopy curls. 

The door shuddered from the weight of them. Flayn reached off to her side, frantically grasping for the door knob beside her hip. She could feel the cold air that slipped from between the crack in the door. Night would be upon them soon. The sun threatened to drop behind the buildings of the Monastery in the next few minutes. 

With the doors opened they spilled out onto the second floor balcony. The railing made of iron bars melded into a crosshatch encased the terrace , but there were vines that grew over the railing and hung down to hide most of the area. They shut the door lightly, fumbling their way into the corner next to it.

Dedue got down on his knees and unfastened his belt and raked his pants down. He crawled out of them, rolling on his side to kick them off. The buckle of of his belt rattling against the tile of the floor. 

“I think you might perhaps be more enthused than me.” Flayn could barely speak around her laughter. 

Flayn waddled toward the wall on her knees, moving the pillow so that she could sit on it. She raised up just enough to slide her hand up under herself and between her legs. Her fingers combed through the thick dark green hair that started seemingly all at once on the little rise just below her waistline. 

Halfway out of his shirt, Dedue paused. His eyes fixed on what his wife was doing. 

“You missed me.” 

Flayn nodded. Already a tiny bulb of pressure seemed to swell inside of her. She was reluctant to speak as she slipped her fingers inside of her, moving in and out with waning caution. 

She stared at Dedue, his foreskin had already vanished and he grew more erect as time passed. His eyes gaze wandering from her breasts, to her legs, and then back to meet her eyes. Flayn grunted. Her breathing becoming heightened, with each breath deeper and quicker than the previous one. Dedue crawled to her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her closer. 

He kissed the side of her face and then her shoulder, giving the rounded part of her shoulder a little nibble before sucking at her breast, running his tongue back and forth over her nipple. 

She rocked her hips forward, driving herself harder against her fingers. Dedue moved from her left breast to ease the right one into his mouth. Flayn let out a low, small moan. 

Dedue sat back now, off to her side and sitting in front of the double doors. His eyes checked the bedroom quickly, Flayn guessed to confirm that Eithle was okay. When he was satisfied with what he saw, Dedue dove down to lay on his chest. 

He grabbed her at the thighs, tugging her toward him until his face was almost buried between her legs. Flayn slipped the three fingers that she had been using out of herself and coyly offered them out to Dedue. 

With a frantic ardor Dedue suckled her fingers clean, then he traced a path along the taunt skin of her inner thigh. She pressed her arms up into the corner of the balcony to brace herself against the wall. 

Fog from that morning had turned into downpours and the sky had only just began to clear. Everything around them still shimmered from the rain. The smell of the damp air was stronger now. Her other senses were reported a flood of vivid information. Somewhere in the distance she could hear a group of students laughing and walking along between the buildings. 

A brief hint of fear passed through her mind. What if they could hear her or both of them? What if they suspected something? Maybe she should have found Felicia and had her watch Eithle? 

The moment passed when Dedue’s nudged it’s way up against her. She opened her legs wider now, allowing herself to slide down the wall slightly. 

Dedue’s tongue wandered the space between her legs as if he was revisiting old trails after a long absence. Thought and reason faded away in a blitz of sensations and emotions. She hadn’t come as hard as this in a long time, which she suspected being the cause of how intense it felt. 

It was possible for Dedue to almost wrap his hands around her thighs and butt, he held her up so that only her back was against the floor so that she was angled up against his mouth. 

Flayn didn’t remember getting into the position and what seemed like a moment later she didn’t remember switching to be on top of him. Her legs were clenched around his waist as she swung her hips back and forth in a way that Hilda had inadvertently taught her when teaching her how to move when dancing. 

She looked down into Dedue’s face watching the strained pleasure move over his face. He wrapped his hands around her back, pulling her at the shoulder blades until her breasts were pressed into his face. 

They were slicked together. Everything inside of Flayn felt hot, and tingly and overwhelming. She fought to clear her head. She had to feel out Dedue’s body language to make sure that he didn’t finish inside of her, as much as she loved the feel of his last desperate thrusts. 

Flayn climbed off him, kissing him on the lips with a hunger that surprised even her. The longer that they were apart, the more her wits and senses returned to her. She moved back to sit on the pillow where she had left it examining dark, glistening shape of Dedue’s cock in the dying light. 

Flayn stretched her legs out over Dedue’s using her toe to prod the base of his penis. She dragged her nails playfully across his sack just before he took her by the ankles and slid her and the pillow closer. With the instep-arch of her left foot she steadied his cock, holding it upright so that she could move the other foot up and down it in slow, stuttering strokes. 

“Cethleann.” Dedue said between his teeth so lightly that it came out as nothing more than a breath. 

She was at the point where she could only respond in small little ‘Mmhmms’ and other comparable nosies. 

Flayn turned her left leg on its side, bracing the base of his penis against the bridge of her foot and pulling it slightly back toward her. With the toes of her right foot she massaged the knot of nerves of his frenulum.

Dedue gulped at the cold night air, his body jerking into a shuddering fit. His pelvis convulsed and she could feel his cock tighten in between her feet just before his seed erupted out so forcefully that she felt warm stands reaching from her toes down to her ankles. 

She continued to move her toes, rubbing her left foot back and forth across the base. Flayn smiled over at him. 

“You look as if a great weight has been lifted from your shoulders,” she said. 

He nodded. His hand caught her around the leg just below her knee in an attempt to bade her to stop. 

“Sorry,” she said pulling her legs back toward her. She moved to the side, staying on her knees to keep her feet from dripping on the floor before she had a change to wipe them on the pillow. 

Dedue took a deep breath. “How is our—“ 

Flayn cut him off. “She’s still sleep.” She climbed up onto him to lay against his chest. It had been too long since they could just lay wordlessly in their own filth. It had been even longer since they had done anything as adventurous as this. Out door at the Monastery sex? It was unheard of, for Flayn at least. 

In her time with Dedue, and really in her whole life, she had never had sex at Garreg Mach. They were in the Kingdom by the time of their first…coupling. 

Her concern of the Death Knight and the old her and all of those other things faded away until she drifted off to sleep in her husband’s arms. 

She awoke to a banging noise, opening her eyes to see Eithle standing at the double doors, peeking out at them through the second row of panes from the bottom. She laughed and raised her hands above her head to clap. 

“Oh! Eithle? No ma’am. What are you doing?” Flayn fought to cover up only to find that Dedue had thrown his coat and the pillow over them. 

Eithle reached up to the door knob and turned the lock before dropping back down from the tips of her toes to wave and say a word that Flayn could only guess was ‘bye-bye’ by how she mouthed it. 

“Why would she do that?” Dedue asked groggily. 

“I don’t know, but it’s going to get cold out here. You know I don’t handle the cold well.” Flayn said. 

“What would you have me do? Break the door down?”

“Yes.” 

“Nonsense. We can just jump down and go around before…” 

“Jump down? From this height and while my clothes are inside and my breasts are vagina are just on display like the statues of the Four Saints!” 

“You’re one of those statues,” Dedue said with a sly smile. “But maybe we should keep our voices down…” 

Flayn narrowed her eyes at him. “If I weren’t a holy woman, Dedue—I swear.”

Dedue tried to peer out through the vines to see how far down it was to the ground. “Perhaps that is too far, we should flag down one our compatriots and have them get someone to get us out. Felicia should have a key to the room after all.”

Eithle wandered off back into the room to pick up a doll and sit down with it in her lap, bouncing it on her leg and muttering something to it. 

“I am still partial to my ‘break down the door’ suggestion,” Flayn said crossing her arms across her chest under Dedue’s coat. 


	21. Hey Dorothea

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Seteth and Hilda take the spotlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, it's been a while. Sorry for the pause, but things got crazy for a while and you all know how 2020 has been. I'm still here and still working on this thing.

Flayn had left behind all of her old clothes and some nicknacks; the little cute things that she had collected over the years when she was away from the sacred place where she had slept so long. Seteth liked to think that she actually enjoyed the dolls and the sewing—they weren’t just props in her attempt to be a believable young girl. They were part of who she was, some of them had been things that held memories of her mother even, though those things were rare, guarded. 

Still she left them all behind. With this new body, marriage, and life came a new kind of responsibility. 

Flayn could dwell on the past no longer. 

This room was larger than any other staff or clergy chamber, even Rhea’s. It had been meant to offer Seteth and his daughter modicum of privacy. The freedom that she craved had led her to throw small fits, to want to be alone for days and bury her nose in books for an escape.

It wasn’t until Professor Byleth’s class took her in after the incident in the catacombs that she opened up. 

What Flayn hadn’t abandoned had been carted off to the Kingdom. The excess space caused the door of the room to echo when it creaked open. There was a distinct, empty smell now—Seteth couldn’t place his finger on it, but it was the smell of something that had once been ever present that was now missing. 

Though today something was different. 

The air smelled floral and rich. Candles placed all over the room cast a dull, flickering orange light over everything. 

He unfastened his coat, slipping out of it to hang it by the door. Perhaps he should be more cautious, there had already been one violent attack on the campus that resulted in a death. But Seteth was pretty sure who had done this. 

“Dorothea,” Seteth called out through the central area of his room, leaning forward to peek around the corner into the bedroom. 

He made his way around toward the door slowly, checking the room for movement ahead of him. Seteth froze mid-stride, taking time to survey what he could see of his bedchamber from the angle where he stood. The bed was tidy, just as he left it. Next to the bed was a chair where he would often sit and read and if there was anywhere that she might have waited it would have been there. 

Seteth swallowed hard. He hadn’t possessed his crest form in some time, there was something about transforming into it and transforming back that he had just forgotten or lost, but the traits that his kind were still there. Nabateans had heightened senses, at least when compared to that of a normal human. He stretched out his arm, edging his way toward the long pole of a nearby broom. It wasn’t a lance, but it would be enough to keep an attacker at bay. 

Just as he moved to grab it there was a flutter of footsteps behind him. Seteth started to lunge for the makeshift weapon, but then a pair of familiar hands covered his eyes. 

“Guess who?” 

“How did you manage this?” Seteth asked.

When his eyes were uncovered he whirled around to find himself staring into Dorathea’s large green eyes and closed lip smile. “How did I manage what?”

“To get in here. The door was locked and unless there’s something I am very unaware of, you don’t have the ability to fly.” Despite himself Seteth can’t help but smile. 

“Oh, a lady has her secrets.” Dorothea’s smell was more present now, this close to her there was more to it: the distinct smell of her breath, the soap she used in her hair and the hint of the makeup she wore. 

Her eyes glimmered in the low light and when he didn’t answer her expression sunk into one of concern. “What’s the matter?” 

Seteth sighed. “With all that has been going on I was worried that you might be some assassin.” 

Dorothea took his face in her hands and kissed him on the lips. “No, it’s just me,” she smiled that same simple smile again, this time with her face so near his that their noses almost touched.

In the dim light of the room and with the heat and aroma from her washing over him he could feel this overwhelming need blossom in his chest. He was conflicted over Dorothea still, he didn’t know how much he could tell her, how she would react. Now she hovered over him, not moving for a long time. With the night this still it was hard to truly mark the passage of time, but Seteth could feel his heartbeat, sense her breaths as they washed over his face. 

Weight fell upon his thigh and he glanced down to see Dorothea’s hand. 

“Is that okay?” She asked.

Seteth nodded. “I don’t see why not.” 

Dorothea smiled, her hand gliding down to the inner-side of his thigh. “And this?” She asked. 

“—may I ask what’s-what is going on—“ 

“I’ve been struggling to figure out why you’ve never made a move toward anything more…physical. I can only guess that it’s because I’m a former student here or that you don’t like the optics of dating another staff member,” she guessed. 

Seteth put his hand atop hers, guiding it. He had never really thought of the student or staff things, though his age certainly had crossed his mind. “It’s not really that.” 

Dorothea pushed herself up against his side, her one hand staying where it was while the other curled around to bring him closer. She kissed the side of his neck. “Then what is it?” 

“It’s very complicated. I just—don’t know if I can bring you into all of the danger and secrecy that it entails.” Perhaps he admitted too much. He had been so guarded around her for so long and now he was just giving it all up? 

“We don’t really have to be complicated,” Dorothea explained. Her fingers began to fiddle with the buttons that held the top of his coat, she undid them in a hurry, and tugged the overwear off of him. “Answer one question for me truthfully: would you be okay with me using my hand to pleasure you?” 

Seteth’s mind went blank for a moment and then he realized what she was referring to. Then Dorothea slipped the shoulders of her dress down. He hadn’t noticed in the panic and the darkness of the room, but he could see now that she was just in a dress, nothing underneath.

She let the dress fall until it bunched up on her hips, the shadows from the folds of the garment meshed with creeping up from where it stopped. His eyes traced a path down from hers to her stomach and then on further down…

“I think that would be fine,” Seteth said. His composure was slipping. Maybe it was better that it did. “Can I do the same for you?” 

Dorothea nodded. “Of course, but me first. I’ve waited a long time to see that look on your face.” 

With her help, Seteth got out of his heavy outer shirt and pants, he left his undershirt on as Dorothea didn’t seem to be particularly concerned with it. They got up onto the bed and she went down on her knees next to him to work his underwear down until they were off. 

She was doing her best not to look, as if to preserve the surprise and when they were finally tossed away to the other side of the room, Dorothea rose and darted from the room. 

Seteth set up, looking out of the door after her. She had moved so fast that a candle on the bedside had blown out. In the distance he heard the door lock. 

“Dorothea?” Seteth asked. 

She appeared in the doorway and he remembered suddenly how beautiful she was. The way that the golden light from the candles made her skin glow and the shadows caressed the curves of her body, perhaps he was more smitten with her than he gave himself credit for. 

“I had to make sure no one would be interrupting us,” she said. 

Dorothea crawled onto the bed next to him and ran her fingers down his stomach, over the hem of his shirt and down into the thick, curly field of hair that surrounded his cock. She teased the area with her fingers, giggling nervously to herself before cupping his balls in her off hand beginning to stroke his cock with the other. 

Seteth’s hands tensed against the tidy bedsheet, his body tightened. There was a warmth to her palm and a texture that almost had him shivering, he inhaled a stuttering breath and then his eyes met hers. 

She increased her speed, tightened her grip and moved further down, pressing deep into the forest of hair at the base of his cock and until her fist was deep into his skin as she could go. Dorothea’s other hand only needed to move slightly, rubbing his balls softly up against his cock from time to time or in her own palm. 

He tried to say something. In his head he wanted to encourage. A simple yes would have sufficed, but the only sound he could make was a clipped grunt as she moved her hand up to his shaft and paused to make slo circles on his frenulum with her thumb.

Again, Dorothea picked up the pace, now she was leaning over with her ass aimed away from him and up. She was looking around the side of his cock and into his face as her hand worked up and down. 

In her eyes he caught this devilish glimmer and she cracked a little smile before letting out a soft breath. He felt immobilized, didn’t want to move for fear that he would slip out of whatever fantastic dream he was in the middle of. 

And she scooted in close to him until she was laying on her side, across his leg with one breast resting on his thigh. His breathing and heartbeat had increased until he he was sure that his chest was going to burst. He wanted to scream out, wanted to yell something. 

It was too much, there was a pressure building in the pit of his stomach and this piercing sensation that seemed to radiate down from the tip of his cock into the rest of his body. Perhaps it had been too long. Yes, far too long. 

Seteth had gone so long without any form of sexual release because of living with his daughter so close at hand and being around others most every waking moment that he had grown used to it. The first time he had, taken matters into his own hands again had been also the last--the night he and Dorothea first kissed. 

Maybe it was just because he had someone else involved with the act, but when he came his hips bucked against the mattress and the muscle spasm tightened until it felt like it might become a full on cramp. His seed spurted out over the hand that was at his balls, over the balls themselves, her other hand and arm and onto his thigh, almost to the point it hit Dorothea in the face. 

The speed of her strokes died down and her grip lessened. She was looking up into his face still, smiling. “You seem to like that.” 

Seteth let out a small nervous chuckle and then nodded his head. Suddenly he wasn’t so conscious about whether she noticed his ears or suspected anything was wrong. 

He lay in the still night air, his bottom half completely exposed while Dorothea trotted through the room to gather a towel and wet it. He watched the sway of hips barely holding her dress from falling the rest of the way down as she moved and dark sheen her hair took on in the candlelight. 

She returned, crawling up next to him in the bed to wipe him down. 

“I already did me,” she said. He went to take the wash cloth from her, but she jerked it away before going back to what she was doing. “I got it. You made quite a mess.” 

The sigh he let out was unexpected, but not unwarranted. “It has been a while.” 

“Well, good things come to those who wait.” Her voice had taken on this cheerful tone, more so than normal and she was working too hard at cleaning what should already be gone. 

Seteth touched her bare shoulder, reaching until he had to sit up. He moved down her arm until he found the divot where her arm bent. Then he lazily dragged his hand over to the breast. His fingers slowed and the stillness reached a fever pitch in the room. 

Dorothea released the rag and wrapped her hands around his, pulling them close to her chest. She looked at him and smiled kindly. 

“I was joking earlier. If you think that this is still too fast then, well,” she exhaled and glanced around the room. “…then I respect your wishes.” 

Seteth kissed her shoulder. “It’s not that,” he said. “I’ve just been neglecting what I really want.” 

“Oh?” Dorothea said. 

Seteth pushed her to the bed, rolling her over so that she was on her back and he was kneeling beside her. He hooked his arms around her legs, dragging her until the backs of her thighs were resting on his knees. The dress was bunched up all around her waist now and he could see the her bare legs all the way up to where they met.

He pressed his fingers into curly dark hairs, wiggling them cautiously, probing for the folds of skin that would mark what he was looking for. 

“Wow, okay,” Dorothea said through a fit of laughter. “Are you sure about this?”

“As long as you are,” Seteth said, pausing what he was doing and looking into her face. 

She nodded enthusiastically. “I am.” 

Seteth’s fingers slid inside of Dorothea; he spread them into a ‘v’ shape in an attempt to open her slightly. He could smell her now too, he had been smelling her for sometime but it was clear that’s what it was. 

Nabateans had an impressive sense of smell, but Dorothea also had a scent that he hadn’t known women to have before. She was sweet, not in the cakes and cookies and raw sugar sort of way, but in the earthy, overpowering molasses sense. 

He made small circles around her opening, let his fingers trace paths up and down her inner walls. And then, he laid between her legs taking careful time to pull her legs up onto his shoulders and buried his face in her. 

The taste of her was strong, not bad in any way, but overwhelming. Seteth also didn’t want to stop. 

Dorothea let out a shocked yelp, before she slapped her hands over her mouth.

“Are you okay?” Seteth asked glancing up.

She nodded, uncovered her mouth and spoke, her words shaky. “I just didn’t expect all that—look this might be a bit much, you think?”

“Oh, I just thought…” 

“Yeah, it’s not an issue. It’s just that men tend to not like that and I don’t know if I want to turn you off like this.” 

“Turn me off?” 

“You know, by making you do something you don’t want to. I get it, things can be a little weird…down there.” 

Seteth moved from between her legs to sit up. “I don’t think it’s weird at all. I like to do this—or I did.” 

“I thought men universally hated that whole thing.” 

He shook his head. “My—“ he stopped himself. 

“What?”

“My wife, when she was alive, used to be absolutely rapturous when I did it. I enjoyed seeing her like that and liked doing it too, I just wanted to see you…” 

“That’s really sweet,” she cut him off. “It’s just in my experience it never really ends up happening. I don’t want to force you into doing things you don’t want and to be honest…that’s one thing I’ve never really done.” 

“Force yourself on someone, well I would hope not.” 

“No, what you were trying to do,” Dorothea said. When he didn’t asking for any follow up she assumed he needed one. “The foreplay has always been fingers and hands. With women, we’ve always just kind of done to each other what we would do to ourselves and I went down on a guy once. That went terribly. I mean, I’m not opposed to it, I just need to be with someone I really trust.” 

“Could you trust me to show you what you’ve been missing?” Seteth asked. 

“We can do that.” 

“You’ll have control over everything,” Seteth said as he laid down on his back and grasped her hand, he pulled her close. “Pull this leg over here,” he said. 

“Like climb over you?” Dorothea asked. 

“No, put your legs on either side of me, straddle my face like a horse.”

“Oh, okay. Are you sure?” 

He was looking up at her from between her legs now, but she had hunch forward for their eyes to make contact around her breasts. “I’m sure.”

“What if I suffocate you or…” 

“I can assure you that I can breathe for a much longer time than you expect. And if things don’t feel good or you don’t like it, you can stop me whenever you want.” 

Dorothea nodded.

Seteth guided her hips down until she was on top of him, his face smashed into her folds, her hair brushing at his cheeks and nose. Everything was dark, and wet, and warm. 

Dorothea was aware enough to never crush him or push down too hard, but her thighs were kind of covering his ears making most of the little sounds she made muffled. He could hear her sharp gasps and slow, low moans. Sometimes he could barely pick out the word yes being repeated. 

This went on for long enough that he could tell she was into it. She bucked and rocked, thrusting her pelvis into his chin and pushing his head back into the mattress. 

It had been different with his wife, but he was sure he had felt Dorothea climax. Her muscles tightened and she grabbed his hair holding it with her fingers. Then her muscles began to spasm and her full weight touched down on him. 

Seteth tried to maintain his cadence, to keep his tongue moving in the same distinct pattern that she responded too, but before long he could hear her quiet pleading.

“Seteth. Seteth stop. Goddess stop.” 

Dorothea didn’t so much as climb off of him as she did fall to the side, her hands pressing the dress up between her legs and her chest heaving. 

“Are you okay?” Seteth asked. He suddenly realized that he too was out of breath. 

She nodded. “It’s just that…okay that was really good. You said it’s been how long since you last did that.” 

Seteth couldn’t answer that, not truthfully.

“Since I was with my wife.” 

“Well you’ve got some memory. And she was a lucky lady.” Dorothea’s speech was a little slurred, almost she was drunk off of the sedation of having finished. 

Seteth had felt a little warm and fuzzy. He would have probably been coming down by now, but the slight air deprivation helped prolong it.

“Can you stay with me here tonight?” Seteth asked. “I have a long story to tell you about who I actually am. I thought…I thought since I loved you it was important that you know. I’m not really like you, I am of the Goddess. And Flayn isn’t really my sister, she’s…”

He heard her take a soft breathe, felt her body droop into the bed more. Then he heard her snoring. 

“Good night, Dorothea.” 

* * *

* * *

Hilda blinked her eyes open and glanced around the sweltering room she found herself in. The air was thick and oppressive. As the world came into focus around her she spotted someone leaning against the wall near the corner of the room. 

Her body was a sluggish mess and there was a pounding in the front of her head. 

“You completely fainted,” came Cyril’s voice. “I’ve never seen anything like it.” 

Hilda rubbed the heel of her hand into her eye. “Cyril? Why are you still here?” 

“I carried you here, Ungrateful,” he said. “Mercedes is out of the room, said she’ll be back in a moment.”

It was still painful to move, but Hilda got into a sitting position on the small cot, resting her back on the wall. She pulled her feet up onto cot. The pounding in her intensified. 

She only just began to realize where she was, she didn’t know how she hadn’t before. It was Mercedes’ office. It was like her head was still foggy from whatever had happened.

“I don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Hilda said. 

“Maybe you’re sick or something,” Cyril said. “That’s why I brought you to the infirmary.” He looked over at her, arms still crossed and the same stern face. 

“I’m not sick,” she said.

He shrugged and they sat in silence for a while. “Hey Cyril, you’re a serious kind of Almyran guy…”

“I’m not Almyran…I mean, I was born there, but I’m nothing like those people,” Cyril said. 

Hilda sighed. “You know what I mean, I just have a question and maybe you can answer it. Maybe we bumped into each other for a reason?” 

Cyril rolled his eyes. “What are you going to ask me to do for you, Hilda?” 

“Just tell me, do you think you could see me…with an Almyran?” 

“Huh, what’s this about?” 

“Can you just answer the question?” Hilda asked rubbing her temples. 

Cyril came and sat on the cot next to her. “Well, to tell the truth I always thought that you saw Almyrans as a bunch of lying, lazy brutes who break treaties and attack for no reason, but I am guessing this about your old House Leader, Claude.”

“Is it that obvious?” 

Cyril laughed. “How many other damn Almyrans do you know?”

“Well, now I’ve met his mom and sister—they seem okay.” 

“You can’t judge a whole people based on the actions of a few, right? I mean you and Edelgard are both from Fódlan and you’re nothing alike.”

Hilda shrugged. “We’re both small, gorgeous, and like axes.” 

“Those are surface level similarities.”

“You said nothing alike though.” 

“Ugh, Hilda, you know what I mean.” 

“I obviously don’t think all Almyrans are bad…I mean Claude was my best friend.” 

“You didn’t know he was Almyran until after you got to know him,” Cyril said. “Look, Hilda, I can’t really tell you what you think about anything. What’s going on in your head is anyone’s guess, but it seems odd that you came to me with all of these questions. I think you already know something is wrong.” 

It was a few moments still before Mercedes returned, but the two of them sat in silence, Hilda turning the words over in her head again and again. 

When Mercedes did enter the room, Cyril rose, straightening the pouches on his belt and gave Mercedes a slight nod. He then looked back to Hilda. 

“I hope you get yourself sorted out.” And with that he left. 

Maybe it was for the best right now. After the things she had said to Claude and the awkward meeting with Tiana Riegan the last thing that she needed was another reminder of her history with Almyrans. 

Mercedes stopped next to the cot where Hilda sat. She stood with her hands clasped in front of her in the most quaint manner. “Are you feeling better?” Mercedes asked. 

Hilda had never truly known her mother, but she imagined Mercedes to be the very ideal of motherhood. 

“I wasn’t really feeling bad before,” Hilda said. 

Mercedes lifted a stool and moved it over next to the small couch. “Come on now, I know that you wouldn’t be here if you didn’t feel bad. No one just makes Hilda do anything.” 

Hilda sighed. “It’s not the kind of thing a little magic or some Adrestian Cellar Root are going to fix.” 

As Mercedes dropped into the seat she let out a little, exasperated breath. “Try me,” she said with a wink. 

Suddenly Hilda was very aware of her feet. She stared down at them for as long as she figured that she could and then forced herself to look Mercedes in the eye. “Do you feel like I am unfair to people who come from other places?”

Mercedes looked confused and then her brow furrowed with concern as she leaned closer. “Well, I don’t think that I can really say—I’m not from another place. I mean, we were both born in what used to be the Adrestian Empire and what’s still Fódlan.”

“My mom died during an attack from the Almyrans and even before that my family spent our whole existence keeping the Almyrans out of Fódlan. Is it really my fault if that bothers me?”

“I think it bothers you that it bothers you,” Mercedes said. “Because you know deep down it isn’t right.” 

“How do you mean?” 

“The history of Fódlan is wars and rebellions. We all used to hate each other so much and then we only really stopped when there was someone we could collectively hate. Fighting the Almyrans is what kind of bought Fódlan together,” Mercedes said. 

“But things aren’t that way anymore,” Hilda said. 

“I don’t think you hate the Almyrans though Hilda, I think there’s something else wrong.”

Hilda looked off to the side toward the small window where light spilled out onto the stone floor. The upstairs of the school was sweltering in an attempt to keep everyone warm with how cold the nights got, yeah that’s why she was sweating like this. 

“Come on now, out with it.” 

Hilda turned back to her. “I may have said something awful to Claude and the only reason I can think of for what I said is that…I’m a bad person.” 

Mercedes touched her shoulder, grasping it softly. “Oh Goodness, what did you say?” 

“He lied to me, you know? He lied to all of us. And then I just found out he lied to me some more about something really big.” 

“What?”

“His name. His real name isn’t Claude. I guess I should have known, that’s not a very Almyran name.” 

“What is it?” 

“Khalid.” 

Mercedes made a little noise that was almost a gasp. “Well, I rather like it.” 

“When I found out I just exploded. I told him he should have trusted me about that and about him having a sister, I accused him of covering up who he was and then I may have told him that it scares me what would happen if we had kids. Like would they even look like me. And people in Fódlan would hate them or at the very least be suspicious of them, just like I am now.” 

Hilda’s eyes went blurry with tears and Mercedes pushed up next to her to hug her close. “It’s okay. It’s fine.” 

“Its not.” Hilda shouted through the tears. 

“It is, if I know Claude he’s willing to forgive you,” Mercedes brushed a flyaway tendril of hair away from Hilda’s cheek. 

“Why do you think so?” 

“Because he loves you. And he may have kept that name thing from all of us, but he also didn’t hide his sister, not really,” Mercedes said. 

Hilda rubbed the back of her hands across her eyes. “You knew about it?” 

Mercedes nodded. “He absently said it once during a discussion about something in the dining hall, I think people assumed he was lying. He even said that he was an Almyran prince, looking back I think he told us everything about him right there. Given the context I think we didn’t even think it could be truth.” 

“He just told us and no one listened.” 

“Mmhmm.” Mercedes nodded. “You know, I never pictured you with kids, Hilda.”

Hilda sighed. “I think I always assumed that would just be part of it. A little me running around though…now that would be a handful.” 

“No matter how they looked, I know you would love them so much.” 

“Thanks,” Hilda said. “I think you and Byleth will make great moms to someone one day.” 

Mercedes laughed. “I’m not sure that’s what the Goddess has planned, the kids here at the academy are kind of all ours.” 

They both chuckled about the idea, Hilda because it was absurdly corny and sweet—that was Mercedes all over. 

“Damn,” Hilda said. “I have to apologize to Claude still. I’m going to have to come up with something real good.” 

“As long as you’re sincere I don’t think you’ve got anything to worry about.” 

There was a knock at the door before it was opened a crack without warning. Hubert poked his head in and then stepped fully into the room. 

“Hubert, I could have been naked in here,” Hilda shouted. 

“Cyril informed me that you were not, I was told to find you. There’s to be an important meeting tonight, all of the students from the class of 1181 will be in attendance. If you could, Lady Martritz, bring your wife too.”

“Oh, okay.” Mercedes said. 

Hubert bowed. “Thank you, we’ll be seeing you there,” Hubert said before slipping out of the room. 

Hilda turned to Mercedes. “Someone should put a bell around that guy’s neck so you can hear him coming.” 


End file.
